Disco Knitter

Check out the Spaceblog. Anousheh Ansari is the worlds first female space tourist, the first female muslim in space, the first Iranian in space, and the first space blogger.

Initially I was sceptical about the sort of person that would spend twenty million dollars on a holiday, but I have to admit that a part of me is still not quite jaded enough to forget the excitement and joy of exploring space. There is enough nerd in me to still love the original Star Trek (though Voyager is still my favourite - gotta love Janeway).

Despite the highbrow aims of the International Space Station, Anousheh is enough of a tourist to explain some of the nuts and bolts questions that I am sure most of us have wondered about - how DO you wash your hair in zero gravity ?

M-H has a very cute video in her blog today, and as you do, I hung out on you tube and watched another video. Cute, cute, cute. And the ending is a lot like how I feel today.

I normally steer clear of baiting the religious, but when it comes to abominating homosexuality, I get cross, and am more likely to be rude. This landed in my inbox, and I wanted to share the joy, but I am not one for forward silly emails. I will, however, post it here, as the blog is a purely opt-in service.

Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by a east coast resident, which was posted on the Internet. It’s funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God’s Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some of the other specific laws and how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can’t I own Canadians?

I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don’t agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn’t we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God’s word is eternal and unchanging.

Love is a snowmobile racing across the tundra and then suddenly it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.– Matt Groening

Courtesy of The Knitting Curmudgeon.

Sometimes, other peoples blog posts are worth imitating…..

I’m home from visiting him at the hospital, he was in good spirits and a bit of pain. He says that the Hills Private Hospital is not a patch on the one in Thailand, and the food is nowhere near as good. The great news is that he is allowed to go home tomorrow (initially they said he had to stay in for 2 nights), but I still haven’t heard from the doctor how the operation went.

I heard last thursday that he’d have to be cut open again, they only fixed 2 of the 3 compound fractures, and apparently one wasn’t fixed right. So now he has even more metal in his leg, and even more scars. And the countdown of the three months before he can walk begins afresh today. I guess we get to keep his car for a while longer.

Friday night we celebrated the arrival of a new book keeper at work, Mita took today off to graduate form her Masters in Accounting - and yet she is happy to accept a job as a book keeper for a computer shop. What is the world coming to? Perhaps I shouldn’t whinge about my job so much!

After work we had dinner with Simone for her birthday - I gave her a pair of crocs (Holey Soles actually), and I think she is a convert. Lovely to catch up with her, and some old friends I hadn’t seen for a while.

Saturday morning the cleaners arrived bright and early, I raced off to work for a busy day selling macs, and then straight after work to a friends place to work on a top secret project. Details will be revealed in the fullness of time.

Then it was off to the Brandenbug Orchestra at Angel Place, thanks to the lovely Andrew, who bought the tickets at a charity auction. The music was divine, the company was better, but the free champagne was better still. With our heads ful of beautiful music we caught a cab back to The Warren View for Adam’s (brother in law) birthday party. A very big day.

Sunday I finished up the install of dad’s new computer (a wee bit more tinkering to do), and then dragged myself off to knitting. Good thing I did, as the amazing Emma had been shopping at Ecoyarns, and saw fit to include some unspun soysilk with her order for me to play with. I am sure I will cock up the spinning badly, but it’s for me, and nobody died to make it, so I will spin, and ply, and then dye (I already have the pink and orange food colouring) to my heart’s content. Thanks Emma, you are a world class shopper. You could shop for Australia.

After knitting, Mark and I went to a Nettle family dinner, and collapsed into bed after a very full weekend.

And bless my mother. She took Custard out to Penrith on saturday morning to visit Matthew the wonder vet. No, I live nowhere near Penrith, and I must drive past a dozen vets to get to Matthew, but he is a great vet, and a superb human. I was Matthew that had to tell me that Fuzz Bucket had cancer, that Custard had a terminal abscess (so far he’s been wrong abut that one), and do the autopsy on Rhubarb. Matthew has never once made me feel stupid, ignorant or crazy, and all through every up and down, he has been compassionate, gentle, knowledgeable, respectful, and also open to new ideas and opinions. When I found a new treatment for abscesses in rabbits, Matthew was willing to let me try it, and I am sure his support and generosity with his time and expertise saved Custards life.

So we drive to Penrith. He’s cheap too.

Custard had some blood taken, and it appears that he is a little aneamic and has lost some weight. I’m going to give him another course of worm treatment, and weigh him every few days for the next month, and if nothing much changes we’ll revisit things in a months time. There doesn’t seem to be anything dramatic wrong, but he has lost weight (Custard has always been a fine figure of a bunny, so a little weight loss is out of character for him), and he seems to be a little more quiet and reserved than usual, not racing to attack the treat jar with his usual gusto. I didn’t worry much at first, as his chance in behaviour seemed to coincide with Rhuabrb’s death, but now it’s a few months on and he hasn’t bounced back as I would like.

Please keep your paws crossed for both Dad and Custard. I appreciate it.

The specialist said that his leg wasn’t fixed properly, so he’s in surgery again now. I’m on my way to the hospital so I can be there when he wakes up. Hopefully this is the last time.

Anyone familiar with the Northern train line in Sydney would know Denistone Station as a strange twilight zone type of place. The trains all stop there, but no-one ever gets on or off the train. It’s like a ghost town, miles of bare concrete, but with a few lovely trees, including a Frangipani, and a couple of bottlebrushes that attract the lorikeets when they flower.

Because there is no commercial area around the station (just a big park, and houses on large blocks with established gardens), it is a haven for wildlife, and most mornings I see at least a bird or two. This morning, there were quite a few Sulphur Crested Cockatoos and I was lucky to get this shot of one looking at me.

And this guy - just poking his face out the front door, considering his options for the new day…..

Just because I am indecently in love with this shawl, and insanely impressed that I was able to complete it with no glaringly obvious problems. There are problems, but I’m not telling where - and if anyone can pick them from these pictures, I’ll be impressed.

Thanks to Mijal for being an awesome model.

The prettiest house in the street ? It’s not a posh house, but in the spring, when the jasmine, and the wisteria, and the freesias all flower at the same time, it not only looks beautiful, it also smells divine.

Pirate Translation Widget
My “International Talk Like a Pirate Day” wouldn’t have been such a fizzer….

SMH Article

“There is a debate in this case as to whether that condition was self-induced”

The judge that allowed the bail clearly thinks that there is grounds for an appeal. In court on the day of sentencing, both lawyers argued for different interpretations of the law. The law says that mental illness makes a person not responsible for their actions, but it also says that if a person takes drugs or alcohol and is responsible for their own impairment, then they must take responsiblity for their actions.

The judge ruled on the day that he was responsible, and that he must face the consequences. The expert witness (Dr Allnut) testified that there was a “history of mental illness” in the McMahon family, but during cross examination, it was revealed that in one of their first interviews (while McMahon was alledgely still in a psychotic state), McMahon had told him that his brother suffered from bipolar disorder. No-one ever checked out this story (to my knowledge), and even if it is true, does one brother with a mental illness (wether mild or severe) constitute a “family history”?

And if there is a family history, surely knowledge of this would act as a deterrent from indulging in mind altering substances.

Whatever the appeals court decides, I really don’t know if I have the strength to attend the court again. I felt a little safer knowing that McMahon was behind bars, but I feel no malice towards him. Revulsion, yes, but malice is not helpful. His acts were worse than awful, but I do believe he wasn’t well when he did them. He might be well now, but there is a very thin line between in and out of control once you have a drug addiction. McMahon claims to love all animals, but that love wasn’t enough to prevent him from becoming a monster.

The most important thing for me has always to do what I could to make sure that this never happened again. I don’t feel that I acheived very much, but it was all I could do, and now I am not sure that I can do any more. Maybe I’ll hate myself if I don’t go to court, but maybe it’s time to just let the courts decide, and let this case fade from my horizon, but I’ve never been good at hiding from an ugly truth. I have already been pilloried by the press, and marginalised so that my input into the case would probably do more harm than good at this point.

I don’t belive that the criminal justice system should be solely concerned with punishing the perpetrators of crime, nor should it be only concerned with protecting the innocent. If there is to be social justice in our criminal system, it must be concerned with rehabilitation, and prevention as protection from evil, rather than punative action after the fact.

The victims in this case have no voice, and my voice is not loud enough.

The final chart of the shawl is dedicated to Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe (the Pet Shop Boys), and also to Luke, who popped into Red Eye Reocrds, and picked me up a copy of their latest album (the pink and orange special edition in a black case) Fundamental.

My first crap attempt at blocking.

My Nupps. Please admire them, they caused me pain.

He’s going to get very bored in the three months he’s not allowed to walk, but I have brought him some needles, some wool, and a learn to knit book. Thanks M-H, great minds think alike. He’s more likely to use the needles for scratching under his cast, but I tried….

Thank you to everyone who contacted me with messages of support, and who tolerated my dramatic reactions to my Dad’s accident. Mum and Dad arrived safely this morning (no thanks to the insurance company), and are relaxing at home.

Mum and I brought down her futon bed from upstairs for Dad, so that she can sleep downstairs in my old room and be able to hear if he needs her in the night. Tomorrow I’ll install a DVD player for him so he can watch movies and digital TV with the touch of a button. It’s going to be a very boring three months before he’s allowed to walk, or drive a car, so he’s going to need all the entertainment he can get.

I’ve ordered him a new 24″ iMac, but it will take a few weeks (it’s got a special video card, and a larger hard drive, so it will be built to order), and in the meantime he won’t have much to entertain him. Maybe I should start an internet hoax - “Old man wants to collect more get well cards than previous spotty youth…..”.

Apparently they’re serious about going back to Burma/Myanmar next year, and taking me with them. Can’t wait!

On a web page using Safari ? Or any cocoa app….

Highlight a word. Any word. Now press “Cmd Ctrl D”.

See what happens ? A dictionary definition in a pop up window, or, if you prefer, a thesaurus entry.
How cool is that ???

After knitting today (thanks to everyone that braved the weather), I came home and collapsed in my little craft room /study. A noise at the window startled me, and I looked over my shoulder to see a little face very similar to this one.
I didn’t get a picture, but you’ll have to believe that it was damn cute.
Thanks to www.magneticisland.com for the gorgeous picture.

OK, this is my last post on this issue (for a while at least). I am glad that at least two writers have seen what I have seen in these vitriolic outbursts, and I hope that this episode is not cementing a new way of dealing with women with unpopular opinions. I could be in for a very hard time

Very little of the anti-intellectual hot air blown about this week has been about what Germaine Greer may or may not have thought about Steve Irwin. It had everything to do with a dominant male power-base telling women to be seen and not heard. Of marginalising a particular kind of woman and reducing us to condition and circumstance. Of reminding those of us who like to speak our mind to watch our step, to remember our place and to shut up and agree with the menfolk. We are all a lot poorer for the unsightly fallout.

Excerpt from an opinion piece in the Age by Tracyee Hitchison

Dad had a plaster cast put on today, and they gave him a wheelchair. I spoke to him at about 5pm Thailand time, and he was planning to go to the hospitals rooftop garden for the first fresh air he’s had in nearly a week.

The doctor is really pleased with his progress, and though he may be allowed to fly home a little early, mum is thinking that it might be best to stay the full week so he can recouperate as much as possible, and take advantage of the great care he’s getting at hospital. Once he’s home things will be a lot harder - we’ll have to put a bed downstairs for him (my parents have a 2 storey house), and there won’t be any nurses to give him sponge baths and fresh pyjamas.

I’ll do whatever I can to help, I just what them home.

Sydney Morning Herald Link

If you can’t read the whole thing, I urge you to just read the first paragraph. The whole piece is worth a read, particularly if you care about fairness and balance.

Thanks to Kate for pointing out the article.

And another life has been cut short this week. Peter Brock lost control of his vehicle today and was killed. Peter was nicknamed “Peter Perfect” because of his skill behind the wheel. A great ambassador for motor sport, and a dedicated vegetarian.

Here’s a link to a transcript of his Enough Rope interview.

Another popular figure who died too early, but died doing what he loved.