Time to run away to the ocean

Last week I had a busy day. It started at 5am and had about a half-dozen things I needed to do that morning before 7am. Then I had a few more things I needed to do before I went to work.

One of those things took me near to the ocean.  As I'm driving along the coast, an urge to stop and visit the beach overwhelmed me.

I pulled over, took off my shoes and socks, rolled up my work uniform trousers, and padded my way down the steps to the sand.

Thus, I escaped reality for ten minutes as I stood in the water and gazed to the horizon.

Hardly anyone was there.

The water was beautiful and glassy.

Sometimes you must simply run away to the beach.

Calm Blue Ocean.

Me at the beach.

My feet in the ocean.

See? Nobody here but me.

________________________________
Her Grace understands the need to escape.

Aussie culture: The Bunnings Sausage Sizzle

Generally, the weather is clement in Australia, so every weekend, Australians get out and Get Stuff Done.

Bunnings Warehouse is "Australia's DIY, Garden & Hardware Store".  They are he-yuuuge! You can get everything you could possibly want, need or covet for the improvement of your home. Want a new bathroom sink? Get it at Bunnings! Need heirloom tomatoes for the garden? Bunnings. Need a sausage with onions and tomato sauce? Bunnings.

Yep. You heard me right.

Every weekend all Bunnings Warehouses host a sausage sizzle (like a "barbeque", but you can only get sausages). These sausage sizzles are run by various non-profit groups as fundraisers. Schools, clubs, sports teams, and more will man these outside kiosks and for about five bucks, will sell you a sausage on a bun, topped with grilled onions and the sauce of your choice, plus a can of soft drink.

Sometimes people go to Bunnings just to get a sausage sizzle. It's a very Aussie thing to do.

_____________________
Her Grace has been known to succumb, even though she's not terribly fond of sausages.

Casketry

Yeah, I think I'd be okay with this,
as long as I get to choose the tree.

Imma gonna get my Goth self out of the closet (where I tend to keep her most of the time) and we're gonna  have a pleasant little chat about burial caskets.

See, death doesn't scare me. (I hope you also come to a place where it doesn't scare you either.) Because of this, I have been able to openly speak to my multitudinous offspring regarding my wishes for my funeral, et cetera.

I have only two solid wishes:

1. Play my music at my funeral. 
2. Do not feel you must spend much money on my funeral in order to show grief. Bury me in an old cardboard box if you want. I'm okay with that. I'd much rather you spend the money on yourself to make your lives happier. Keep things on the cheap because I'll be dead and won't care.

My daughters, with their own wry senses of humour, wholeheartedly embraced this idea. I've never been one much for adhering to others idea of "tradition". Therefore, if something slightly different comes along, I'm game to consider it.

Now, actual cardboard coffins are more expensive than the bog-standard pine box, it turns out. Seeing that price is the main factor, whatever coffin is the cheapest is good enough for me.

Then last week on Mr Money Mustache, I came across Nature's Casket.  What a cool idea!

Pine beetle infestations can be ruinous to the lumber industry. The beetles infest the wood, introduce a fungus that weakens the wood, and kill the tree. The resultant wood can't be used because its structural soundness is compromised. You can't use beetle-kill wood to build anything you wish to last more than a couple of years.

So, what can you build that only needs to last as long as the funeral and interment?  A casket of course! A casket only has to last a few days until it's buried, then it's welcome to return to nature. What an excellent use of this otherwise-useless wood?

Pine borers are a present pest in WA, so if I could get my hands on some pine borer wood, that'll do fine for building a casket here. 

Another option the daughters considered was a burial pod.  The Italian company Capsula Mundi offers burial pods, with a tree planted over the pod. They liked this idea, and I might be okay if they bent rule #2 for this option.

"What kind of tree do you want, Mum?" they asked me.

A fruit tree, definitely.  Apricot would be best, as it has a taproot, but if that is discouraged, I want a cherry tree.  Otherwise, any fruit or nut tree will do.

I don't like Snickers bars

The most popular candy bar in the world is a Snickers bar. Everybody seems to love them.

Not me. I can't stand them.

I love a good Mars bar with its soft nougat and stringy caramel.  But when you throw peanuts into the mix, I'm outta here. (Don't get me wrong. I like peanuts. Just not in a Snickers bar. A Payday bar, Butterfinger, or a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, no problem. But Snickers? Ew.)

Snickers bars have a weird taste to me.  Is it the peanuts with the nougat?  Peanuts with the caramel? Some strange synergy between all three?   (I wonder if there is a difference in the nougat recipe between a Mars bar and a Snickers?)

Every once in a while (usually in a moment of desperation), I'll try a Snickers bar. Every time I remember why I don't like it.  One of these fine days I'll do a proper experiment and analyse exactly what it is I don't like about a Snickers bar.

Over to you: Do you like or loathe a Snickers bar?  Why?

________________________________
Her Grace will be handing out books and Tiny Teddies for Halloween. But absolutely no Snickers bars. At. All.

My weekly budget (a metaphor)

I envision the time I have each week as money. I earn $168 per week. Unlike real money, however, I cannot save any surplus for the next week, nor can I borrow on credit. I can only use what I'm given and hope I budget wisely.

So, my budget is thus:

Taxes (at a preferred rate of 30% of my income): $56 
This is the amount of time I choose for sleep. This also includes any pre-bed rituals, like brushing teeth and maybe reading. Unlike real life, I can borrow from the taxes I pay to fund something else, but I end up regretting it. (Okay, maybe that is more like real life than I want to admit.)

Tithing: $12 
Being religious, I believe in giving over a certain percentage of my income to my God. I have a three-hour church block on the Sabbath. I teach Early Morning Seminary five days a week, plus lesson prep time, an hour on Monday for Family Home Evening, and time  here and there for my own scripture study, meditation, prayer and ministering service. Turns out I devote about twelve hours. If this was a true tithing analogue, I should up it to about seventeen hours a week.

Bills:  $36
Gotta pay your dues if you wanna sing the blues. These are time obligations I must fulfill:
Day Job:  $12
School:   $12
Writing:  $12
I try to balance these out. Sometimes school takes up more time, especially if I have a project due; sometimes work takes up more time if they ask me to come in more hours to help complete a project. Sometimes the Day Job feels heavier than it is, because it takes up more spoons than it should. Don't get me wrong; my day job is a perfectly good job. I work in a good environment with a great team. If IT Support is what I wanted to spent the majority of my budget on, it's one of the better jobs out there. But I don't want to do IT Support any more. My issues with dealing with other people's problems are growing. This increases my tax demand, as I burn too much energy on the Day Job.

Travel: $10
This is literal. While I put petrol in the car, I also put time into driving places. On a quiet week, not so much. If I have an occasional dash to Perth or somewhere, that can take a bit more out of my budget.

Child Support & School Fees:  $16
When one has offspring, one must care for them. Your kids need your time, more so when they're younger, but not as little as you'd think when they're older. Help with homework and practice, listening to them, spending time with them, and more are required. While much of my child support budget is spent on individual children, at least there are a few things that I can group together.

Food:  $14
One must nourish the body. One must also nourish the soul. Self-care is essential for good mental health, which then enables one to pay one's other bills.  Things like dedicated meal times, reading time,  piano practice, a nice, hot shower, exercise and other personal-care things are a bill one cannot neglect to pay.

Spousal support:  $10
Gotta support the spouse, or one finds one no longer has a spouse. While some activities (like watching a movie together) can be covered under the Food bill, other things like just listening to how their day was or helping them pull weeds in the garden is purely spousal support. Many people neglect this bill, sadly.

Chores:  $7
As much as I loathe it, chores still need to be done. Dishes, kitty litter, laundry, vacuuming, you name it. One has to keep one's environment tidy. One of these fine days I'll earn enough spendable money to afford to pay someone else to clean my house for me. (Buy my books and make this dream of mine come true.)

Now, at the end of all this, turns out I have approximately $7 left. That appears to be one hour a day. Alas, this one hour a day gets nickle-and-dimed away in the interstitial moments.  Stop to chat with someone at work after a shift, that could be a good fifty cents gone. Waiting at the train station for the daughters after school? Another twenty-five cents spent. Little by little, these few precious dollars evaporate. A minor mishap leads to the Chores bill demanding another dollar. A late child nibbles away twenty cents. Traffic slowdown takes another twenty cents. Another child needs to go shopping to buy something for school? That can take two whole dollars.

Before you know it, those seven dollars are gone, and you're wondering where the money went.

Then there are those weeks where some big event takes over your life, forcing you to borrow from or even abandon some of these bills.  My last week was like that.  A child had a massive homework project she couldn't do alone. An expected death of an uncle gave me a few hours' pause while I gave over to grieving. A planned weekend away, while welcome, meant that many hours I could have spent on other projects went somewhere else.

As you know, Bob, I completely did not blog this week, as my time needed to be focused on other things.  I'm hoping you'll forgive me for this, for I was prepping the final copies for the print version of God of the Dark and getting Bride of the Dark prepped up as well.

And then there were the times I didn't want to do anything at all, but trawl through my cousins' memories of their awesome father.  The thing with an expected death from Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer is that one has plenty of time to come to terms with one's graduation from mortality. Also  helps to be Mormon with the belief that death is not the end, merely a pause.

Now, if only there was a way I could earn more money in a week.

Best friends

Once upon a time I had a best friend by the name of Julie Spencer. I loved her very much. She was pretty and unselfconscious and interesting and creative and not afraid of the world (for she was wise in its ways), or what anyone thought of her. We both had younger sisters named Emily. Her father Richard was a doctor. She was blonde with peaches 'n'cream skin. She lived only a few streets away. We had so much fun together.

You know how you meet that One Person in your life that makes you feel complete?  That's how I felt about her. We were going to have so much fun for the rest of our lives!

Alas, in the Second Grade, Julie Spencer moved away. I often daydreamed that they'd move back and I'd see her again, but it never happened.

Decades later, with the advent of the Internet, I tried finding her again, but with little more than just a name to go on (and a rather popular one at that), I had no luck.

So if you ever come across Julie Spencer, possibly from Cottonwood in Utah, please let her know I am looking for her. After all, if I still miss her forty years later, she must have been some kind of wonderful and I would like to see her again.

_________________________
Her Grace will see if she has a picture. 

Fencing and Trophies

TASE Day today, because my life is full of interesting things.

His Grace is a world-class fencer specialising in the sabre. As such, his sport takes him all around Australia, and occasionally overseas to international competitions.

His Grace (foreground) celebrates scoring a point during Commonwealth Veterans competition.

Every once in a while he'll win a competition, coming home with medals and trophies in the form of...

...wine bottles?

A rather on-theme trophy from five years ago.

Yep, one particular competition is rather proud of the wine produced in its region. Therefore, they give it out as prizes to the winners. (And why not? If you're a drinking culture who enjoys a cultured drink, wine would be an ideal prize.)

Only thing, we don't drink alcohol. It's not a part of Our Graces' culture.

So His Grace, being a proficient sabreur, regularly comes home with these trophies shaped like wine bottles, weighed down with some sort of liquid (I'm told it's a fermented sort of grape juice).

Being non-drinkers, nor promoters of drinking, we are at a loss. While it would be nice to give these away as gifts, it's hard to give away a trophy His Grace worked so hard to earn. (It's rather gauche to give a bottle of wine to someone on the condition they give the empty back.)

We could display them, but as few others recognise these as trophies, we don't want to give the wrong impression that we are wine-bibbers.

So for now, our extensive collection of fencing trophies hides away in the top of a closet until we can figure out what to do with them.

Not sure if this is a crime or not.

____________________________
Her Grace considers the possibility of beouf bourgignone or coc-au-vin as another potential. Also, does wine expire or have a best-before date? This Mormon has no idea.

Recipe: Aloo (Potato) Curry

An Indian friend of mine (Harry) once pointed me to an excellent vegetarian Indian recipe website. While many of the recipes were fabulous, this one (or rather, the mother from whom this recipe descended) was our favourite. It's rich and spicy and full of flavour.

Normally I don't like onions and onions don't like me. (I have a food intolerance.) But if they're cooked long enough, whatever it is that objects to being present in my stomach gets denatured. This recipe cooks them enough for me not only to tolerate them, but enjoy them thoroughly.

If you're unfamiliar with making curries, don't let this recipe daunt you.  Yes, that spice list is very long, but it's sooo worth it. If it truly scares you, you could substitute a half-cup of Garam Masala spice mix or a bog-standard curry powder, though it won't be nearly as good. My spice list uses whole spices, where possible, but if you can't find whole spices, you can use pre-powdered spices. Just be sure to reduce the amount to nearly half for volumetric purposes.

Aloo (Potato) Curry

1kg (2lbs) potatoes, peeled, cubed and boiled

1kg (2lbs) onions, peeled and sliced thin

250g (8oz) butter

2 Tbsp oil

Curry Spice Mix (see below)

Prepare your potatoes first by peeling, cubing and boiling them until tender but not falling apart. Drain and set aside.

In a large skillet, melt the butter and the oil. As soon as it is hot, fry up the onions until very soft and starting to colour. This should take a good ten to fifteen minutes. The more colour on the onions, the better the flavour.

Add Curry Spice Mix and stir in with the onions until fragrant. 

Add potatoes and stir until thoroughly coated with the onion spice mixture. 

Serve up as a side dish, or as a vegetarian main with flatbread. Serves 4-6.

Curry Spice Mix

You will need a grinder. While possible to grind in a mortar and pestle, I highly recommend a spice grinder (or a coffee grinder, or a blender or one of those turn-whole-veggies-into-a-smoothie blenders like my Nutri-Ninja) or anything that will turn whole spices into powdered spices. If your grinder's not big enough for these quantities, you can grind a few spices at a time then blend together in the end.

Place in your grinder:

1 Tbsp powdered tumeric

2 Tbsp cumin seeds

1 Tbsp coriander seeds

1 tsp cardamom pods

1 tsp whole cloves (or substitute 1/4 tsp powdered cloves, these are so strong)

1/2 tsp peppercorns

1/2 stick cinnamon (or 1/2 tsp powdered cinnamon)

2 bay leaves

1/2 a nutmeg (or 1/2 tsp powdered nutmeg)

1 star anise

1 tsp fennel seeds

1 tsp mustard seeds

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp kashmiri chili (or 1/4 tsp cayenne powder)

generous pinch of asfoetida powder (optional, if you can find it)

Grind up until a fine powder. Add to your aloo curry. Can also be used in other recipes asking for curry powder.

_______________________________
Their Graces are suckers for a good curry.

Observations: What you do is more important that what is

Before I get into this week's post, here's some state-of-the-union info:

• The semester started a few weeks ago. Tools of Modern Astronomy. It's all about the EM spectrum and what kind of light buckets we use to catch falling photons. I feel like it might be just over my head, but I shall persist. Will I pass? Yes. Will I get an HD? Probably not. That's okay. I'm a conceptual astronomer and my job will not depend on how well I can run a telescope.
• I finished the draft for "Currently Unsupervised".  It took me two NaNoWriMos and a few weeks of "get'er dunne". Now drafting the outline for my Victorian Clockpunk Telescope novel. It is not a coincidence I'm taking Tools at the same time I'm drafting this novel.
• My Quarterly Newsletter goes out at the end of this week. If you aren't signed up to my newsletter, you won't get it. I tend to tell my newsletter stuff before I tell the rest of the world. And yes, I've got news in there.

Yesterday was WA Day, a public holiday, in Western Australia. All week it's the Royal Show (think 'State Fair', for you 'Mericans). Naturally, Their Ladyships and I went along.  But my story is not about the Royal Show or WA Day.

Last week I went to the local grocery store to purchase tickets for the Royal Show. While I was there, I witnessed a young child throw a nuclear-level temper tantrum because they wanted ice cream. Mum was not going to buy them any. The kid screamed and stamped. Still, Mum said no, and proceeded to walk out the door in a controlled manner. Kid continued to scream and stamp, but followed after. This is because the kid, despite their complete meltdown, knew that Mum meant business and was not going to cave.

I respected her for having a plan and sticking to it. In my eyes, this is a good parenting skill.

At the Royal Show, as Their Ladyships and I were indulging in some expensive gelato, a pair of young parents came up with their young child in a pram (stroller). Like us, they'd bought a cup of expensive gelato to share. Young child got first bite because, as Dad explained, this was the first time she'd ever had chocolate ice cream. We had a pleasant conversation over introducing children to new foods, the benefit of teaching them to value high quality, etc.

Young child dropped something on the floor. Dad picked it up and dropped it into the umbrella they had hanging off the side of the pram. Upon closer observation, I noticed it was full of little bits and bobs. They had turned their umbrella into an improv bucket. "Oh, that is so cool!" I uttered.

"Yeah. We only just thought of it today. But I think we'll keep doing it."

They were really cool people and I'm so glad I encountered them. For many reasons, they became a bright point in my day.  I respected them for their parenting skills because they were able to go with the flow, anticipate things, and were able to come up with creative solutions when the unanticipated came up.

Later on at the show we were at one of the kiddie displays. While there, an incident happened which lead to a young child having a nuclear-level temper tantrum.  Unlike the mother in the grocery store, this mother did not have a single clue. Her coping technique was to try and placate and reason with the unreasonable child right there in the middle of the floor. The child was kicking and screaming. Also, this just happened to be the time a large trolley had rocked up with a delivery.

Unfortunately, the kid chose to have their temper tantrum right where the trolley needed to go. Due to crowding, the trolley could not back up, could not move. It blocked the entrance to the display, and nobody could get in or out. The kid in his screaming, struggling mess, came really close to hitting his head against the sharp edge of the trolley. The mother, so wrapped up in trying to placate her child, instead of taking control of the situation, became useless. She was not in control of a situation she should have been.  She had no awareness of her surroundings, the trouble she was creating by not removing her child from the central area, the immediate danger he was in, and, despite the offered help from other parents, could not control her situation.  Essentially, she was just as out of control as her kid.

People had to physically remove her and the child to a safe location, so that the trolley could be moved. She was incapable of doing this herself because she was not in control. At all. Eventually the father showed up. I could tell from the look in his eyes and the actions he took, that this was not the kid's first temper tantrum, nor the mother's first moment of "i can't parent".

When the mother first melted down, my first thought was sympathy. But as I watched her fail to get control over herself and complete strangers had to step in to deal with her situation, I confess my sympathy faded into annoyance. Surely this was not the first time her child has had a temper tantrum. Why did she not have a plan in place for dealing with such a situation?  At least the father had a plan. My annoyance faded into pity. Parenting is hard for all of us. But it can be harder if one doesn't have a plan.

In the space of a week I observed two temper tantrums by young children. One mother earned my respect. The other did not. Yet I am grateful to both women, for they led me to a moment of personal enlightenment.

We will not be judged by how things are. Many things are not completely (or even remotely) in our control.  We will be judged by how we deal with these things.

Having a plan is a good idea. Having enough objectivity when we don't have a plan to come up with a good enough solution, even if that solution is only to buy us more time to think of an even better one, is a good idea. Being in control of ourselves, even when others are not, is a good idea.  Knowing when walking away is the best solution is a good idea.

I hope I have leveled up enough to apply these lessons when my moment comes.

______________________________
Her Grace believes in regular self-reflection and personal improvement. She does not think she can progress otherwise.

A name by any nose can smell as sweet

An amusing side-conversation on Janet Reid's blog regarding my name looks like it could use a little bit of explanation.

Yes, Kneale is a cool name. I always thought so. That's why I opted to change my name upon marriage. (That, and I never had an official middle name growing up. No middle name is worse than too many middle names.)

More on the surname Kneale:

Kneale is the Manx spelling of the name, shortened from "MacNeale", as the Manx often do. The root "Neale" is a spelling variant of the Irish O'Neill, of Ulster fame. It goes back to the Battle of Ulster, where the winners were surnamed Neil, which means "Champion".

Yeah. My last name means "Champion", which is really cool.

My first name Heidi is a diminutive derived from the German Adelheid, which means "high and noble".

Put my first and last name together and it means "Noble Champion".  How awesome is that?

As for Kneazles, they're spectactular in their own way and I have no objection to being alluded to one. Wouldn't mind owning a hybrid either.


_____________________________________
Her Grace, when she wants to be pretentious, goes by Heidi Lucile Wessman Kneale, which means "Noble White Champion of Light".  Maybe if she does get a Kneazle, maybe she'll name it that.

All-You-Can-Eat, I hate you

I got a gastric sleeve back in December, which completely changed my life. For the most part, it's been great and I'm glad I had it done.

However, it does put to flight the concept of All You Can Eat. My current stomach capacity is about 200ml, which is just under a measuring cup.

In theory I eat all I can at every meal, which is about three or four bites of whatever, then a little something to drink. And I'm full.

This puts a cramp in my old habit of enjoying restaurants.

Some friends are planning on going to an all-you-can-eat Brazilian barbeque. They're hoping to get a group booking so they can "get the price down to $30/head".  Alas, I can't participate. No way am I paying $30 per bite, er I mean, per head.

If I'm going to pay that much for that little food, it had better be Wagyu beef drenched in truffle sauce.

Another downside to a teeny tiny stomach is I can't participate fully in degustation menus. These are the delightful ten course meals put on by the fanciest restaurants to allow you to sample all their glorious art, er, food. His Grace and I enjoyed going out to degustations a few times a year. While the individual serves are teeny-tiny, believe me, after ten or more courses, at the end your normal stomach can be quite full.

Can't do that any more, at least, not the way I used to.

I might be able to participate in a degustation, but only if the restaurant is happy to accommodate my dietary restrictions. (The best restaurants will cater to dietary restrictions, such as food allergies, religious restrictions, etc.)  I have no idea if they would allow for my particular restrictions.

Can His Grace and I go to a fine restaurant and order one degustation to be shared between two people? I do have a card from my surgeon asking for restaurants to consider letting me order smaller portions. We haven't been game to ask for this consideration. It would be nice if they could. The degustations we indulge in are often $150 per person.

With a degustation, I would literally have one bite of His Grace's plate, and he'd finish the rest. We used to go to a brilliant restaurant that closed a few months ago. They were more than accommodating for issues. I wonder if they would have been accommodating for something like this. Maybe if we had a party of four or more, where they would have been making enough money per head to allow one "freeloader" chair space.

It's now that time of year when we'd go out and indulge.

His Grace and I have some thinking to do as regarding whether we may be able to enjoy the culinary arts equally in the future.

Using Singing to Create a Positive Emotional Benefit

We haven't had a TASE (Talk About Something Else) Day in a while. We're overdue.

A friend is teaching a child how to master their emotions. Like all good researchers, she asked her peers for their experiences.  I suggested singing as a quick and immediate method the child could use to get themself out of an emotional rut like frustration or anger.

I've always known singing to be a positive mood-lifter, far more effective than just listening to music. I've taught classes in using singing for optimism, and often teach my regular music students how to use music for their emotional benefit. (A bit of a selfish purpose behind this one as well, for if a child learns to love creating music, they'll be more likely to practice.)

Not everyone is a musician, but I believe everyone is capable of singing. You might be a bad singer and woefully out of tune, but you can still sing, and you will still receive the benefits I list below. Never let anyone tell you you shouldn't sing. I refuse to oppress a singer just because they might not have learned to master their pipes yet.

Anyone who's sung out loud may have noticed the centering effect music has. Really, it works, so here I go hardcore with research to explain how this works.

Singing can alter your mood through:

• Employing deep and focused breathing. To sing, one must first draw breath, then release it in a focused and controlled manner to make sound. This deep breathing can also slow heart rate and neural activity. It also provides re-focus, as the brain must concentrate on producing music. Also, the vibrations of music has an effect on the autonomic nervous system. (Clark & Tamplin 2016)  
• Triggering endorphin release. While merely listening to music can make us feel better, the actual performance, whether playing an instrument or singing, has the greater benefit. It requires the singer to be active and not just passive, as a listener would be. This activity stimulates greater endorphin release. (Dunbar et al 2012)(Kreutz G et al 2004) 
• Using a different part of the brain. This disengages the "stuck" brain and engages fresh thinking, which will be less likely to get stuck in a feedback loop. Singing also engages the same part of the brain that processes emotions. Take that over, and the negative emotions are easier to deal with and get over. (Chanda et al 2013) Also helps with stuttering and emotion-related speech issues, like an inability to explain oneself when upset.
• Familiarity. As our common rituals and favourite things soothe us all, the familiarity of a favourite song can also bring us back to ourselves when we feel out of sorts. (Ibid)

So, how does one get this singing schtick to beat off the black dogs?

• Before you find yourself in an emotional bucket o' crap, choose a positive song or ten to be part of your emotional first-aid kit. I've got several, but one that works really well for me is "Before the Parade Passes By" from the musical "Hello Dolly".  Get in the habit of singing your first-aid kit songs now and then so you can get used to how they feel in your chest.
• When you find yourself down or frustrated or angry, pull out the song that "feels right" for the moment, and start singing, even if you don't feel like it. If you're not really in a place you can sing out loud and can't get to one, humming is also acceptable. But if you can do some proper out-loud singing, the deep breathing will do you much good.
• Do not let whatever harshed your original mellow steal the focus from your song. You're here to beat the grief, not let it beat you.  (3/4 or 4/4 are good beats.)  Singing won't solve your original problem, but it will resettle your brain enough for you to have more spoons with which to cope.

Barbara Streisand singing "Before the Parade Passes By".

I am interested to hear results from anyone who's willing to experiment on this method and report back.

References

Clark IN & Tamplin J (2016) "How Music Can Influence the Body: Perspectives From Current Research" Voices, 16, 2

Dunbar RI, Kaskatis K, MacDonald I, Barra V (2012) "Performance of music elevates pain threshold and positive affect: implications for the evolutionary function of music", Evolutionary Psychology, 10, 4

Kreutz G, Bongard S, Rohrmann S, Hodapp V, Grebe D (2004) "Effects of choir singing or listening on secretory immunoglobulin A, cortisol, and emotional state" Journal of Behavioural Medicine, 27, 6

Chanda ML & Levitiin DJ (2013) "The neurochemistry of music (A meta study)" Trends in Cognitive Science, 17, 4





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Her Grace is a Coloratura Mezzo-Soprano by training, though her voice has gone a little smokier with age.

The Periodic Table of the Elements for Astronomers

TASE Day, as it's nearly the end of the [Australian] Summer Holidays, which  means if one is out observing the heavens, one is not having to worry about freezing one's patootie off, nor having to get up early for school.

Today I present you with...

__________________
Her Grace observes with a five-inch Celestron on an equatorial mount.

The Pattern of a Scarf

A couple of years ago I hand-crocheted a Doctor Who Scarf for a friend for Christmas. I wanted to get it as patternally accurate as possible, so I had a look online. (Okay, the original scarf was knitted, not crocheted, but I am not as fast a knitter as I am a crocheter. Sosumi.)

I found not one, but several patterns, as The Doctor had a couple of incarnations of scarves (as well as bodies).

Turns out the pattern of scarf I wanted has a name: Acheson Hero.  (Who knew?)

Costume designer James Acheson (oh, I get it...) wanted a scarf for the Fourth Doctor. He handed a bunch of wool (yarn) to knitter Begonia Pope, who went to town.  Result: a twenty-foot scarf.

To look at the Acheson Hero scarf, it's hard to see if there's a pattern. It's like Begonia started knitting and lost count. Is the Acheson Hero pattern completely random?  Seem so.

This year I came across the remaining skeins of yarn. I thought, why not make a mini-version of the scarf for myself? I started off wanting to be true to the pattern, but in the end, I just started measuring out random lengths. I tried to keep the colour sequence as true to the Acheson Hero pattern, but in the end, just gave up as I ran out of yarn, spoons and firetrucks.

As I hooked and looped my new scarf, it was an ideal time to think. What if there is a pattern to the Acheson Hero, but it's not one we can quantify mathematically?  Why are there fifty-six rows of Yarn Colour 165 (bottle-fed baby poop) and only ten of Yarn Colour 113 (breast-fed baby poop)?

Then I wondered: what if the pattern of the scarf is the pattern of Begonia's life? Surely she didn't just sit down and crank out twenty feet of scarfy goodness in one sitting. If she's like every other woman I know, she's got a life, probably a husband, few kids, a dog... what if she fit this scarf-making in between everything else she had to do? What if the number of rows is the amount of time she had to work on that one section? See, she could have knit up six rows of one colour, repeat until out of yarn. But she didn't.

What if she used only a single colour per sitting? She'd knit and knit in that one colour until she ran out of time. Then the next time she picked up her needles, she swapped to another colour. What colour to choose? Maybe whatever matched her mood, or maybe whatever she laid her hands on reaching blindly into her yarn bag.

I'm thinking that row of ten was waiting for a pot to boil on the stove. That row of twenty, her waiting for the bus. The row of forty-four? In church on Sunday. The row of 56? Waiting at the doctor office. Row of eight? Kids' naptime (not long enough).

If this is her pattern, you can see where her life is busy and where her life is quieter.

Maybe instead of trying to follow her pattern, I should have followed her pattern and included colours to mark time for my own life.


__________________________
Her Grace has one little leftover ball of yellow yarn (100% Aussie wool) and she's not sure what to do with it.


← This spot right here: early bedtime.





← Right here: suppertime.





← Here: picking kids up from school.



← I hope someone read the paper to her while she knit.



← I also hope someone told her what a good job she did.

TASE Day: Why American Cheddar is Orange

-or- Why We Have Always Been Susceptible to Marketing


Today on Janet Reid's Blog, the conversation drifted off-course into the realm of colouring lard and oleomargarines yellow to resemble butter in the first half of the 20th Century.  (These things happen on the Reef.)

It reminded me of a bit of history I learned on my first job as a Living History docent. Sometimes Nature needed a little assistance when it came to aesthetics.

In Summer, when the cows had plenty of fresh grazing, the milk would come out nice and rich in colour. The resultant cream and therefore butter, would have a nice, yellow cast to it. Beautiful and tasty-looking.

In the Winter, when cows relied on fodder (dry hay, etc), the colour was rather pale and unappetising. So, when we made butter in Winter, we'd grate a carrot, soak it in water, and use this carotene-coloured water when washing the butter. This gave a nice, golden summery colour to the butter, which would, in turn, sell better.  (This was in the 19th Century.)

Because people believed quality was accurately affected by appearance, they'd believe  the yellower butter was the better one, and would pay a higher price for it.

Same thing went for cheese. When you set milk with rennet to make cheese, if the colour of the milk was pale, the cheese would come out pale. But if you mixed in a bit of that carotene-water before you set the milk with rennet, the cheese would come out with a more golden colour.

This cheese always sold better. So manufacturers started colouring it all the time.

Gradually, over the course of a few decades, the brighter-coloured cheese sold better than the paler cheese. So up went the colour palatte until we have the fluorescent orange American Cheddar you all know and love today. The colouring is completely artificial and purely a marketing tactic. It wasn't until recently (and a change in the perception of image = quality) that so-called "white cheddar" made a re-appearance (at a  higher price, of course).

Really, white cheddar is exactly the same as your orange cheddar, only without the added orange colouring.

_____________________________
Her Grace has a secret addiction to history.

Theme for Today: Titan (TASE Day)

Today is TASE (Talk About Something Else) Day.
This week (actually, for the next four weeks) I am reading lots on Saturn's moon of Titan.

Yes, that is sunlight glinting off methane lakes you see on Titan. It has lakes, rivers, fog and rain.

This is because in my other life I'm studying astrobiology this semester. Titan is one of the candidates for possible microbial life in our Solar System, and my team and I are designing mission parameters for a science mission. (It's too early to say whether we want to choose Europa, Enceladus or Titan as our target. That may be determined on how we choose to sample our science.)

Astrobiologists study life on all planets, including Earth. Extremeophiles are a large part of our study, as it's likely that life surviving in other locations in the Solar System will be extremeophiles of some kind or another.

Check out what I've been reading lately: Do a keyword search for "Astrobiology" on Harvard's Abstract Service, or have a look at the habitability potential of icy moons.


Question: What topics have you been reading lately? Has it fascinated you as much as astrobiology has fascinated me?

________________________
Her Grace is a polymath.

Hard Decisions

Today is TASE Day, because I've had a hard week.

I had to make some Hard Decisions a few days ago and it broke my heart. Broke it so much, I couldn't commit myself to the decision. Took me all night and much of next morning, and then when it came time to make the decision, I broke down.

Fortunately, I was offered a third choice, which I immediately took. It was the best choice for everyone.

Here's the full story: Courageous Orange

Still, every choice comes with consequenses. This one involved me owing someone a Really Big Favour. To help repay this favour, I've got a GoFundMe campaign going.

Question: have you ever had to make a decision that was so hard it left its permanent mark on your soul?

________________________________
Her Grace has burned so much emotional energy that, at the end of it, the only thing she could do was read a book. Sleep was not an option. Her brain kept replaying the difficult decision and wouldn't shut up. She needed a good escapist story to quiet it down and distract her and give her heart a chance to start healing.

No, she will not tell you the title of the book.

Eh...

Yep. Me and Jules Breton.

Eh...

Some days I am full of energy which I can focus and get lots done.

Some days are just.... eh.

I look at my To Do list. There's so much to do, and deadlines by which to do it. But I can't find the Get Up and Go Juice to get me going. There is no motivo-mojo in my stream.

Can't I just lie here and stare at the ceiling?

I know I'm plagued by Eh when I can't even bring myself to read a book because it would take too much effort.

Fortunately, this feeling does not last for long and tomorrow will be a more productive day. My Day Job will allow time off for illness, but doesn't yet offer time off for Can't Be Bothered.

Today's question: When you're plagued with Eh, do you seek motivation or do you simply ride it out?

________________________________________

Her Grace accepts Eh for what it is--a passing state. If you're not completely lacking in motivation, here's a book with a character who had motivation to get something done.

Recipe: Edgar Allen Pie

Quoth the raven: dinnertime.

Last year for a Pi Day party I made Edgar Allen Pie (in a square pie dish, because pie are square). It was such a hit I made it again this year.

Due to popular request, here is my recipe for Edgar Allen Pie.

Crust

• 2 c plain flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 c oil
• 3 Tbsp cold water

Blend salt into flour. mix in oil into flour until absorbed. I prefer the K-beater on my mixer. Add the cold, cold water one tablespoon at a time until you get a good consistency in dough.

To roll out, roll out between two pieces of parchment or wax paper. This is necessary. Don't think you can cheat and roll this out with flour. It won't work the way you think it will.

Roll out a top and bottom crust. Place bottom crust in your pie dish. Blind bake in a 170°C (350°F) oven for about ten minutes. Don't let crust get too brown or it will burn later.

Fill pie with filling and place top crust over pie. you can seal the edges if you wish. Optional: brush top with watered egg mixture for a shiny top crust.  Bake in oven at 200°C (400°F) for about 30 minutes or until golden brown on top.

Filling

Note: no need to be precise in your measurements. If all you've got is 300g of raven, then that's all you've got.

Chop then saute in butter or oil:

• 1 onion
• 3-4 purple carrots (Purple is recommended for spooky effect. Yes, they will turn everything dark. That's what you want. Orange carrots can do if you must, but it won't be as theatrically effective.)
• 2 sticks celery
• 1 tsp dried or fresh sage

Add:

• 400g (1 lb) boned raven. (Okay, I'm kidding about the raven. Use any dark bird meat like turkey, duck, goose or pheasant--something with personality and flavour. (Chicken is NOT it.) Whatever you do, do not substitute crow. Nobody likes eating crow.)  Note: you can use leftover, precooked meat if you wish. If adding raw meat, cook until no longer pink.
• 1 cup vegetables of your choice (broccoli, corn, green beans, sweet potato all work well in this dish).

Blend:

• 2 Tbsp corn flour 
• 500ml stock (chicken, turkey, pheasant, vegetable... nothing too strong or dominant)
• 2 Tbsp cranberry jelly (Raspberry will do if you have no cranberry)

Pour into pan with raven and vegetables and stir until thickened.

Add:

• 200ml sour cream. Mix in well.
• Salt and pepper to taste. Be generous with the pepper.

Pour filling into pie crust, top and bake. It's okay if you have some filling left over: tomorrow's lunch. If you don't have enough filling, add a few more veggies.

If your sense of humour turns to the darker side, reserve some of the ends of the purple carrots. Slice in half so they look like beaks. Before baking, cut slices in pie crust and poke carrots through so they look like beaks trying to escape a la Stargazy Pie. Delightfully macabre touch.

Serve with a raised eyebrow and Alan Rickman's voice.

_____________________________
Her Grace enjoys cooking, especially for great effect.

Days I Celebrate in March (TASE Day)

We need a TASE Day. I celebrate TASE Day whenever I want.

March 1 - First day of Australian Autumn.  Yes, Australians celebrate the beginning of their seasons at the beginning of the month and not on the solstice/equinox. This is because we tend to follow what actually happens in the weather, as opposed to what happens in the sky. We tend to follow how the Aboriginal people mark the weather.

Up north in the tropics, they only have two seasons: Wet and Dry. Much of the country celebrates the usual four seasons. Here in Western Australia, many of us observe the six seasons of the Nyoongar people. Today is looking to be a right old scorcher, typical of Bunuru.

March 14 - Pi Day. Yes, I make pie and we eat it.  Last year we were invited to a Pi Day party. I made an Edgar Allen Pie.  Okay, so I didn't have raven. I went with dark turkey instead, and purple carrots to make it go all sorts of nice black. It was a total hit. This year, I coincidentally have turkey in my fridge, so I'll make Edgar Allen Pie again this year.

March 15 - Ides of March.  Yeah, I'm a casual fan of Shakespeare. So much of our vocabulary and modern literature owe him much. editminion.com has a Shakespeare option you can turn on during analysis.

March 17 - Happy Birthday Relief Society.  On this day this year the Relief Society is 174 years old. We're having a birthday party and a service auction (people donate acts of service and people get to 'bid' on them with points they won through games we play at the party.) Next year looks to be like a really big year for celebrations. I'm hoping we do something spectacular. Possibly get together with other Relief Societies in the area and do a really big bash.

March 17 - St Patrick's Day?  If you want to celebrate by drinking beer and wearing green, go right ahead. I won't, because I don't have a single drop of Irish blood in me.

March 19 - Vernal Equinox - First Day of Spring for the Northern Hemisphere. I observe this more as an astronomical interest instead of a weather interest.  Also, the pre-dawn morning sky has been most interesting with Jupiter setting, Mars riding high and Venus shining brightly. It's a shame I have no desire to drag my telescope out that early most mornings. Maybe I will tomorrow simply because I Can.

25-27 March - Easter. I love Easter from Cadbury Creme Eggs to the celebration of the Atonement of Christ. I also like getting time off from work and school. This release from secular life allows me to focus on the reasons I have a Thousand Year Plan. (I also take the time to work on the Fifty Year Plan and to spend time with family and friends.)