Pizza Ordering and the National ID Card

I recently had another irritating encounter with those who would have you blithely sign away your rights to your own identity and privacy. I just hate that. And so should we all. As Mark keeps telling me - if you aren't worried, you aren't paying attention!

So I got a good laugh today when my friend Joann sent a link to this video from the fine people at the ACLU - who evidently ARE paying attention to what sort of data is collected about us and who is using it. "They" are tracking our purchases, our medical records, where we go online, our credit - you name it, they have it, and they are selling it to anyone who wants to buy it. Invasive new technologies coupled with our government's impression that any snooping is good snooping when we are "fighting the war on terror" are coming together with some very interesting implications.

What is this world coming to? Watch it and see.

Taxes

We are anxiously awaiting our 'tax return preparation' result. And in case you are too, here is some Humor for Tax Time:

"There is just one thing I can promise you about the outer space program: Your tax dollar will go further." --Werner von Braun

"A suggested simplified tax form: How much money did you make last year? Mail it in." -- Stan Delaplane

"The income tax has made more liars of the American people than Golf has." -- Will Rogers

If a lawyer and an IRS agent were both drowning, and you could only save one of them, would you go to lunch or read the paper?

For every tax problem there is a solution which is straightforward, uncomplicated and wrong.

People who complain about paying their income tax can be divided into two types: men and women.

The ideal solution is for the Government to live within its means not yours.

If taxes are the answer, what was the question?

Here is an actual answer for the facetious tax question "Can I depreciate my cat?"

• "Livestock held for work, breeding or dairy purposes may be depreciated over its useful life subject to an allowance for salvage value. Livestock includes chinchillas, mink, foxes and other furbearing animals. If held for breeding (or draft) purposes, a cat is not inventory. Therefore, assuming the cat meets these tests, the cat will be depreciable unless the catbreeding activity is subject to the passive loss rules, at risk limitations, or the rules denying losses for activities not engaged in for profit. If you sell the cat it will be treated as Section 1231 property, and depreciation will have to be recaptured, unless the disposition is in connection with a divorce. To avoid recapture, it's best to contribute the depreciated cat to charity."

If Congress can pay farmers not to raise crops, why can't we pay Congress not to raise taxes?

Isn't it appropriate that the month when the taxes are due begins with April Fool's Day and ends with cries of "May Day!"?

A political promise today means another tax tomorrow.

And finally, this one from the Old Farmer's Almanac:
If Patrick Henry thought that taxation without representation was bad, he should see how bad it is with representation.

Lunar Eclipse

Clouds rolled in to our area about 5:00 this evening and we thought we wouldn't have a chance of seeing the eclipse. We kept looking though - about 6:30 and the sky was full of clouds; 7:00, no moon; 7:15, not a chance, I thought. But just a short time later - completely clear skies, stars galore... and there it was, at its peak.

I haven't seen a lunar eclipse in years. Clouds always happen. Trees are in the way. I forget to look at the right time. (I'm embracing my pessimism here...)

But tonight I was lucky. The tree that would have been in the way doesn't have leaves on it yet so only a few branches crossed over the face of the moon in my picture.

We should have more moons. And bigger ones too.

Ups and downs and a Birthday wish

We've had a time of it over the past few days. Our property's drainage issue reared its ugly head again after we were so happy about, seemingly, having taken care of it last summer. The french drains in the back yard really would have worked if, in fact, they'd been attached to a functional house drainage system, as we assumed. But it seems that the house system wasn't actually functional. In spite of the 'as built' drawings on file at city hall, and in spite of the house, presumably, passing final inspection all those years ago, the downspout tubing that is supposed to run all the way to the storm drain in the street only actually runs about 2 feet out from the house and then just stops. Saturated ground doesn't even begin to describe it all.

So, more digging, more mess, more 'problem solving' and more anxiety than I care to think about later... this time it should be fixed.

It meant digging up my precious daffodils - from which I derived so much pleasure last year. (And I whined about it so much that Mark actually got mad at me about it - sorry dear.) It meant mud and mess. And more money, which might otherwise have been able to go toward kitchen countertops, alas.

The 'pause to reflect' moment here is that I have found this to be true all my life: Expect the unexpected. Know that nothing is easy. Every time you think you've gotten ahead, you find out just how far behind you really are. Every time you think you can catch your breath and that things are going smoothly, you have to start running again.

Mark says I'm a closet pessimist. He's probably right. He usually is.

And he is a closet optimist. We are a perfect pair.

And today is his birthday - Happy Birthday Sweetie. Thanks for putting up with me!

Happy Valentine's Day

I know. It's not my favorite holiday for the commercial stuff either. But it IS one of my favorites for doing something special for my sweetie. Today I'm making him a Boston Cream Pie. (Hence the picture - that's me, with my little apron on...)

Hope you find a special way to celebrate too.

Trumpets, indeed

They ARE Trumpeter Swans - our local weekly paper confirms. (And yes, my week has evidently been dull enough that I am still on the same subject I was on a week ago. Some weeks are like that.) Anyway, we tried once again for pictures - this time with the tripod to help - but still didn't get any really good ones.

They are interesting birds, according to our local reporter, even if not (probably) worth a week's concentration. They have an 80 inch wingspan and have been recorded migrating at 27,000 feet (strong wings taking advantage of ribbons of thin air.) They are heading for their breeding grounds in Alaska. The largest population settles for a mid-migration rest in the Skagit Vally north of here, but we are blessed with this group, evidently every year. Who knew? And they are facing extinction largely due to their unfortunate habit of inflicting themselves with lead poisoning, through swallowing lead shot (from hunter's hunting other sorts of birds) to use as grit in their gizzards. I guess they also manage to collide with power lines as well. Alas.

A different sort of traffic

We took a walk on Sunday on a trail in our little valley. The trail goes over a river and through some farmland; it is wide and flat and easy to walk on. In such situations we are always wary of bicycles sneaking up on us – I am easily startled – but were still surprised to suddenly hear honking noises behind us. This is a ‘no vehicles allowed’ trail but it sounded like the circus clowns were just driving through with their rubber-ball horns – honk-a, honk-a. We both jumped. And when we looked behind us, we saw two huge white birds flying low over the trail and coming up on us fast. Honk-a, Honk-a!!

How can that sort of noise come from a bird? Trumpeter swan, maybe? Tundra swan, possibly. Obviously I don’t know (we’ve been over this issue before) and the internet is not helping me much in identifying them, in part because I don’t have a very good picture to compare the finer points. But anyway…

We watched them glide into an old corn field and join what looked like a hundred others. Mixed in with them was another flock of big birds, Canadian geese, themselves a big bird but dwarfed by the swans. The racket was awful – but what a sight.

Faschnacht

Not only is it “Super Tuesday” today, the day of a bazillion presidential primaries, it is also Shrove Tuesday, or Mardi Gras or, literally translated, Fat Tuesday. A little investigation required here…

(This is stuff probably everyone but me knows already. I don’t know why things float around in the outer reaches of my sphere of knowledge without my ever swimming out to look more closely at them, but that’s what happened to this little bit of Lenten knowledge.)

So… Shrove Tuesday. The word ‘shrove’ is past tense for the verb ‘shrive,’ which means to obtain absolution for one’s sins through confession and penance. It is the last day before Lent.

And while the French used this day to party in their Mardi Gras festivals (or is that only in New Orleans?) the Pennsylvania Dutch, in their typically frugal way, spent the day using up their supply of rich perishables that wouldn’t be acceptable to eat during Lent, but couldn’t possibly be wasted either – eggs, milk, sugar and fat. And so we have the tradition of making donuts, or faschnachts, on what is also called Faschnacht Day.

(While I am being sensitive to spelling here, a quick check on the internet reveals that the spelling varies widely because of the lack of written language – so I just picked an option. While discovering this, I also found that the donuts are not necessarily made in the traditional donut shape but, according to some, should be either square – for the four gospels in the Bible – or triangular – for the Trinity. Goodness, the detail! No wonder I never had all this straight in my head!)

Anyway, various people in my family have made donuts for Faschnacht Day off and on for years but somehow I always miss out on it. I have a recipe for fashnachts but only tried it once – and I don’t really remember how it turned out.

So – and here is the point of all this investigation – today Mark and I are going to try it. Wish us luck.



Post Script
With all the Vatican revisions I am always surprised to hear that people still ‘give up’ things for Lent – chocolate, alcohol etc. I had a childhood friend who tried to give up her brother for Lent. Anyway, whatever your choice – may the Lenten season bring you what you need.

Corrections

My mother is trying to keep the records straight and points out that I have misspelled Hannah (with an "h") and Hottenstein's store in my posting about Calvin and Hannah. And indeed I have. Good grief!

Corrections made, in case anyone is relying on this information (which I certainly hope not, but wish to be accurate nonetheless.) Thanks, Mama!

Ground Hog Day

So Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today.

To me that is not a lot of information. I'm always confused by the folksy sayings that accompany this sort of thing. I remember the concept but not the specifics. If he sees his shadow, does that mean more or less winter? Isn't it sort of like "feed a fever, starve a cold" where no one is ever sure which way the saying goes? Feed a cold or a fever? Which one do you starve? Is it alliterative - like "righty tighty, lefty loosey" or is there something else going on there?

I had to go to my mother to get the straight scoop - she was born on Ground Hog Day in Pennsylvania - ground zero for such stuff. She says it is obvious - he sees his shadow and is scared (startled?) by it and hides again - therefore, 6 more weeks of winter. It seems counterintuitive to me - more like if you came out and saw the sun you would linger in it, frolicking as it were, and thereby predict an earlier spring.

To further confuse things, it appears that more folks are trying to cash in on Phil's con game - here in Seattle there is a bullfrog in an aquarium who predicts not only the length of winter, but also the outcome of the Super Bowl game. No 'folksy' saying here though - purportedly this soothsayer just whispers in his caretaker's ear. Hmmmmmm.

In any case - confusions aside - I can, on this Ground Hog Day, firmly and with complete confidence... wish my mother a very happy birthday!