Stupid $#%ing Bunnies

I will never read my children the Beatrix Potter stories about Peter Rabbit. Some nibbly little fellow managed to destroy three of my nearly grown cauliflowers and about 12 juvenile cabbages and cauliflowers last night. I can't believe the carnage!

Poor Farmer McGregor was just a hard-working guy trying to put food on the table, and Peter and family were lazy theives.

Old Timey Music

Listen to this! No school like the old school, eh?

Rooster-Cat

Here's a little kitty-porn. Catsius Clay dressed as a rooster from this past Halloween.

Cannary

I had no idea that photographs of Calamity Jane (Martha Jane Cannary Burke) were readily available on the internet. She wasn't much of a looker:

But apparently worked to support her five younger brothers and sisters as a dance hall girl - and as a hooker!! The wikipedia article on her mentions it completely out of the blue. What?!

She also claimed that Wild Bill Hickok was the father of her child - Jane - though no one seemed to have believed her. Jane Jr. was put up for adoption. As was the other Jane Jr., born fourteen years later. So...she had two daughters, named them both after herself, and gave them both away.

When she died, she was buried next to Wild Bill, apparently because four of his friends planned her funeral and thought it would be hilarious to stick him with her for all eternity. He apparently couldn't stand her in real life.

Immersion Foot

I've just been reading, for no clear reason, the Handbook of First Aid Treatment for Survivors of Disasters at Sea issued in 1943 by the US Navy. Fascinating stuff.

I found it because I had just been fantasizing about what I would do if a passel of starving children were dropped at my doorstep, and realized that I didn't know how to treat starvation. Looks like you want to give them sugary liquids, vitamins, and broth the first day, add gruel the next, and proper meals the day after that. Luckily I already have the necessary supplies, so if those children show up, I'll be ready.

Less relevant to my life is the treatment of 'immersion foot', but I still have committed it to memory just in case. Keep legs raised, don't allow the patient to walk, cool the legs and feet without getting them wet, keep the rest of the body warm.

Carucci

I'd like to direct you to the website of Elinor Carucci, a woman I once studied photography with:

At the time, she had recently finished 'Closer' (the body of work linked to above). I found it (and her) so entrancing. The work is quiet, intimate, and mysterious. You feel as if you live in her dark house full of dark haired family. 'Diary of a Dancer' I thought disappointing - too conceptual and messy where the previous work was concise. Her new stuff, though, looks very good to me, a natural extension of her best.

My favorite is the picture of her body after the c section. Powerful, full. She worked as a belly dancer, which makes this picture somehow more meaningful to me. Giving birth reshapes your body, and that seems more *something* in a woman who depended on having it the way it was.

I had forgotten, but she was actually pregnant with her twins when she was teaching us, and taking a five hour train every week on her commute. The doctor told her she needed to rest more, so she would lie down on the floor of class and hold discussion from there.