adifrentdrumr's Xanga

a different kind of horror writer...

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 16:24:52 GMT

This is a good article to read for Halloween...makes me want to look up this guy's books! A ghost at the bar mitzvah? hmmmm....

What's a nice Jewish guy like you doing writing stories like this?

Tuttleman Library

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 22:08:36 GMT

An interesting article about one of Philadelphia's lesser-known treasures:

Tuttleman Library, one of Philly's hidden treasures, with vast resources for the Jewish community

Not just for the Jewish community, anyone interested in history and culture could find a wealth of resources - the rare books, and the oral history from the holocause survivors are of special interest to me.

business as usual in my household...boiled eggs...

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 18:34:55 GMT

The other night, Dear Husband Bernie just about drove me crazy trying to make hard boiled eggs so he could take them to work for lunches. I was busy editing eBay listings on my laptop in the living room, and it went like this:

(him - in kitchen)

I just put them in boiling water, right?

(me - in living room, trying to work on laptop)

Well, yeah. Boil em 12 minutes then take em off the burner.

(sounds of pans clattering and then sound of running water)

Put the eggs in the pan first -- then fill it up, so you get the right amount of water.

(sound of refrigerator door, then running water again)

Just turn the burner on and let them boil?

Uh Huh, but you can't let them boil too much or they will break -- bring it to a boil then turn it down a little so bubbles still come up but the eggs aren't getting knocked around.

The water isn't all the way covering them.

Well add more water -- otherwise they won't get cooked evenly.

(sound of running water again, then he comes into the living room and sits down to watch tv)

okay I added more water.

good.

(some time passes and he goes back into the kitchen)

how do I know how long to cook them?

use the timer.

but they stopped boiling.

turn the heat back up.

then what?

same as before -- you don't want them to boil too fast, or they will break each other.

(he comes back into the living room, sits down again)

you know the difference between a fast boil and a slow boil don't you?

no, boiling water is boiling water.

not really -- a fast boil is when the water bbbules a lot and that is when it boils over sometimes...you turn it down and the bubbles slow down but don't stop, that is a slow boil.

(he goes back into the kitchen)

it stoppped boiling.

Great.

now how long do I cook them?

how long have they been in?

I don't know!

didn't you look at the clock?

well, I started them at 20 after, but then they didn't boil right way, then I had to add water, then it stopped boiling again, then it boiled, but I turned it down and it stopped. so I don't know.

how much did you turn it down?

I don't know. you said turn it down, I turned it down.

I said turn it down a little, like, you know, medium high instead of high...

well I wasn't here watching it, maybe I should have taken a book and sat next to the stove.

just bring it to a boil again and let it go for 5 minutes, it should be fine.

(he comes back in the living room and sits down)

I can't believe you are having so much trouble boiling water!! We female-types take such things for granted. I think that we all learn to cook eggs first -- I mean, the first thing we are allowed to use the stove for... probalby because our moms don't really want to cook in the morning either. Don't worry, worst thing that can happen is the yolk will be a little gooey, or the white will be a little rubbery...

(a few minutes pass and he goes back in the kitchen)

alright its been five minutes, now what do I do?

just turn the burner off and leave them there. if it boiled the whole time I would say take it off but a little longer while the burner cools will be extra insurance.

okay. can you put them in the fridge later when it cools?

fine.

................................

Later that night, after he is in bed, and I am still working at the computer, I start feeling a little hungry, so I go out to the kitchen. See the pot on the stove and remember the eggs, which are now cool. I get a bowl, take two for myself, and put the others in the fridge.

Surprisingly enough, they were cooked perfectly. Well, hard to really screw up boiled eggs.

................................

Next day, after work, he sat down in the living room, where I was working on the laptop again.

Did you eat two of my eggs?

uh huh, had to check to see if they were done.

and it took two of them?

yep.

beside that -- what MORON only boils a half dozen eggs? especially when a dozen fit in the pan?

(he just shrugged)

------------------------------------------

This man is going to retire from work soon. I am going to have him around the house 24/7.

I hope someone is preparing my padded cell.

one more reason this guy disgusts me.

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 17:36:22 GMT

click to read, the article says it all.

Michael Vick's actions speak loudly | Dog Time

The family biz...

Tue, 14 Jul 2009 19:17:08 GMT

I was just busy in my sewing room, my awesome new machine humming away, and went into one of those contemplative states that I find myself in when all is quiet and peaceful, and I am working at something that I enjoy. I started thinking about my relationship to sewing, and how many times over the years I have sat at a sewing machine, busy creating, and in that same calm meditative state. it was then that I realized that it only makes sense that at least part of my business involves sewing. It is the closest thing to a 'family business' I have.
I have acknowledged since I started Especially Fur You with the help of my cousin Shirley and Aunt Mary that all three of us have years of sewing experience, from different approaches and disciplines, but still it all comes down to sewing. Between us, we have over 130 years of combined experience!
But it goes much further than that. From what I know of my family tree so far, my ...
paternal great-grandmother (married name Ball, from Alsace-Lorraine) was a tailor
paternal grandmother (Mabel Eggert, nee Ball) was dressmaker and did alterations for a living
father's sister (Aunt Grace Andicko, nee Eggert) does needlepoint and used to make hand-hooked rugs
maternal great-grandfather (Frank Uszkay, in Budapest, Hungary) was a shoemaker -- that involves sewing, too
maternal grandmother (Mary Evans, nee Uszkay) worked for her brother -- (my great-uncle) in a dress factory when she first immigrated from Hungary, and then after marrying my grandfather (William H. Evans) she became a typical farm wife, doing anything she coulkd to bring in a little extra money to help the family -- this included making stuffed toy animals and doing various other sewing
mother's sisters, my aunts Mary and Agnes both did interior decorating work, making draperies, bedspreads and so on, and also some upholstery work
mother didn't sew for a living, but when she found the time, she enjoyed sewing various projects around the house, like curtains and chair cushions.
cousin Shirley (Aunt Mary's daughter) designs and makes clothing, including the formal dresses she created when she owned and ran a bridal shop, and she has also done upholstery work and machine embroidery
Down to my generation, the only woman in my "immediate" (extended) family -- which I define as my grandparents, their children and their offspring -- that does not sew is my cousin, Rosemarie, who is a hairdresser. And of the ones who do (or did) sew, only my Aunt Grace and my mom just sewed for pleasure and never for a job. Of course, times have changed, I guess, because the the generation after me doesn't seem to have followed suit at all. I don't even think that any of them have any type of sewing or needlework as a hobby. But, they are starting to produce the next generation (four girls and one boy so far, with another boy coming -- the one whose baby shower was this past saturday) so who knows what those children will grow up to do.
Funny, I never really analyzed it this way. But it really is a family legacy, the closest thing we have to a fmaily business, in a strongly matriarchal family. In a way, I am just a tad dissapointed in myself for not being as much of a rebel as I thought I was, but on the other hand, it makes me proud to carry on one more tradition...

been a long time!

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 20:51:06 GMT

Wow.

It sure has been along time since I have been here. My life has been crazy-busy. I keep promising to start blogging here again (because it really does help me to organize my thoughts) but I never seem to find the time.
I see that they have messed with Xanga again, and most of my links and graphics no longer work. That happens all too often. It is getting to be a real pet peeve of mine, too. I have this site and my dogs site - dollyandpearl - on Xanga. Also imakeart, which I haven't used in ages. AND also a myspace page (they are changing formats and messing with things too) a facebook page, and numerous little mini-profile pages on places like classmates.com. that's just the 'social networking' aspect of my online life.
Then, there is eBay. My eBay store www.especiallyfuryou.com, is now my main "job". Along with that I have my website, www.quickerchief.com, and on eBay, the "about me" page, eBay "My World" page, and eBay blog. These things make up the 'corporate identity' of my online business presence. And all seem to require constant updating and tweaking, even when ebay isn't rolling out major revisions, changes in rules, and format 'updates'!!
In order to effectively promote my eBay business, I am a member of numerous user groups on eBay, and maintain adspace on many other bulletin boards, lists and networking sites across the internet. All which require updates and revisions whenever their owners decide to 'improve' their pages.
And then there are the Yahoo groups, where I connect with like-minded individuals to promote my products and gather information to help improve my business.
And of course the webrings, connecting all of my various pages with other similar content online...
On top of that I have a secondary eBay store, books-2-read, which is currently idle because I haven't had time to keep up with it. And my 'online yard sale' on eBay, under the id adifrentdrumr, where I occasionally sell household goods, clothes or personal items.
In order to support all this stuff, and keep up with related correspondance, I maintain three separate email accounts.
By the time I get done 'making the rounds', checking this, fixing that, updating the other one... it seems that I have no time left to actually get any real work done, or create any content of true substance.
Is it just me, or, in this Internet age, are we all suffocating under the weight of communicatioin overload???

A serious plea for help

Fri, 15 Aug 2008 00:36:50 GMT

Part of the reason why I have not been around very much on Xanga for quite a while is because for the past two years I have been devoting a lot of time and energy to my volunteer work rescuing, fostering, rehabilitating and re-homing homeless dogs. In that time I have fostered and placed nine dogs, adopted three myself, lost one of my own original two dogs (my beloved Dolly) to congestive heart failure, and just a couple of weeks ago our eldest furkid, Tommy the cat passed away from old age (he would have been 21 next month!)
Currently I have three foster dogs living with me, all seniors with medical issues. One of them, who we call Sandy "Putt-Putt", is in really bad shape, and has required me to give her 24 hour care for over 4 months now, with no end in sight. The rescue group I volunteer for had promised to reimburse all vet bills and medical expenses for foster dogs, but we have paid over $1500 ourselves that has not been repaid by the group. And now they are in serious financial difficulties, so it looks like we will not be getting repaid at all. Sandy's vet bills alone have been over $800 so far, and she is still undergoing vet care on a regular basis. We are now running into difficulty ourselves because of these expenses, and it is limiting the funds we can spend for the care and training of our own dogs, as well as the care of our other fosters.
So, I have set up a fund for Sandy's bills at fundable.com. It is set up for a limited time period, and with only eight days remaining, we still have quite a way to go before we reach our goal.
If you can spare a few dollars to help this sweet old dog, we would all be deeply grateful. If not, maybe you know someone that you can forward the link to who might be able to help?

Click on the picture below to go to Sandy's page on fundable.com and read her story and how to donate.

Thank you very very much from Sandy and the rest of the pack.

Death of an icon

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 01:25:37 GMT

This from today's news:

Alexander Solzhenitsyn dead at 89

The following song, one of my all time favorites, was inspired by the story of his life.

If you have never heard it, go download it right now and give it a listen --
it features one of the most beautiful female voices ever, and a truly awesome piano part as well:

Pays the price, works the seasons through
Frozen days, he thinks of you
Cold as ice but he burns for you
Mother Russia, can't you hear him too?

Mother's son, freedom's overdue
Lonely man, he thinks of you
He isn't done, only lives for you
Mother Russia, can't you hear him too?

Punished for his written thoughts
Starving for his fame
Working blindly, building blocks
Number for a name, his blood flows frozen to the snow

Red blood, white snow
He knows frozen rivers won't flow
So cold, so true
Mother Russia-he cries for you

Ooh ooh ...
Bah dah dah dah ...

Punished for his written thoughts
Starving for his fame
Working blindly, building blocks
Number for a name, his blood flows frozen to the snow

Red blood, white snow
He knows frozen rivers won't flow
So cold, so true
Mother Russia-he cries for you
-- Renaissance: "Mother Russia"

Did you ever wake up with bullfrogs on your mind?

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 20:24:45 GMT

You know how some music is just like a good old friend who always makes you feel better?
Today, I am listening to precisely that kind of music. Namely, a great live album by the multi-talented, and totally underrated David Bromberg, a Philadelphia area favorite since the early 70's -- who you can still catch live now and then. His shows are legendary, you never knew what you would hear, or who would show up on stage. And his lyrics, well, they are just brilliant! People of a 'certain age' might remember him well, and those of you who have never heard of him -- do youself a favor some lazy saturday afternoon and seek out some of his music on the 'net. I guarantee it will make you smile.
Following are the lyrics to one of his masterpieces -- a long, rambling, old-style 'talking blues' number called "Bullfrog Blues" -- it never failed to bring the house down 'back in the day' -- enjoy!
Hey did you ever wake up with, bullfrogs on your, bullfrogs on your, I mean mind?
Folks did you ever wake up, with bullfrogs on your mind?
Now that’s a sure sign good people you got, you got bullfrogs on your mind...
I’m gonna tell ya it’s hard, folks it’s hard when the woman your in love with loves your best friend.
I’m gonna tell ya it’s harder still, when she moves in with the dude. Thats's right.
But it’s extra special hard, when you and him are room mates.
I mean you look over at the pillow where your sweet darlin’ used to lay and still does.
There’s only one thing for you to do, you go down to the pawnshop and you, you speak to the man behind the man behind the Nikons and stilettos and stolen Martin Guitars and compasses and hair dryers...
And you say, "oh Mr. Pawn broker, what do those 3 balls mean on your wall?"
"What do those 3 balls mean on your wall?"
He says: “That means it’s 2 to 1 buddy, you’ll never get you’re shit back outta here at all!”
You say "Mr. Pawn Broker - hey wont you sell me a .38?"
"Oh please, just one little old .38?"
"Yes I used to take a .44, but lately I been losin' weight."
...So you buy yourself, you buy yourself a little 38 pearl-handled revolver and a double-breasted pin-striped suit, so you’re dressed to kill, so-to-speak.
You head back to your best friends house and you, you get a little high-chair-stool kinda thing and you, you peek over the transom into your best friends room...
And in that room you see
A one hundred percent mohair rug, a lizardskin Barcalounger with Magic Fingers. A Garard Turntable with a Pickering Cartridge, Bogen Amplifier, Jensen Speakers, Revox Tape Recorder and a Stromberg-Carlson AM FM Tuner.
A leather-bound five-year collection of playboy magazine, featuring the entire Playboy Philosophy by Hugh M. Heffner.
Schmuck.
A copy of The Whole Earth Catalogue, Siddhartha by Herman Hesse, The Trilogy of the Rings, all four volumes of the teachings of Don Juan and the fifth in manuscript.
The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran...autographed.
Some Spiderman and Fantastic Four comic books - featuring !Dr. Doom!
Some Zap comic books with the pages stuck together.
Some extra-wide cigarette papers featuring the visage of a former vice president of the United States.
Some very suspicious looking Baggies.
And a great big... Olympic sized... thermally heated... el mondo grosso waterbed...
with satin sheets, pink pillowcases,
and...and a fur bed spread.
And on that bed - twistin'and turnin’, rollin’ and tumblin’, shoutin’ and groanin’, jumpin’ and pumpin’, uttering wordless moans and unnamable exclamations, you see your baby and your best friend and good people,
I wish to tell you, its hard...
no, I mean its hard baby. Its hard cause you always thought your best friend was kind of a square and you see him in there doing things that would make Dr. Kinsey wanna cross his legs ya know.
So you get down from that stool you make a few quick notes, stick diagrams to indicate motion.
And you knock at the door.
'Course you don’t get no answer.
So you knock again, you still get no answer,
so you knock again,
no answer,so you charge at that door with all you might and mean, just at the moment that your room mate dressed in a green and yellow polka dot Cannon towel opens up the door and you go flying across the hundred percent mohair carpet, stumble into the lizardskin Barcalounger with Magic Fingers, tumble over the Garard Turntable with a Pickering Cartridge, Bogen Amplifier, Jensen Speakers, Revox Tape Recorder and a Stromberg-Carlson AM FM goddamn Tuner!!
People, I mean to say you go on by the leather bound 5-year collection of playboy magazine, featuring the entire playboy philosophy by Hugh M. Heffner.
(audience: Schmuck) thank you
You go on past Siddhartha by Herman Hesse, The Trilogy of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, The Whole Earth Catalogue, The complete teachings of Don Juan,
You go on by The Prophet by Kahlil Gilbran, with all the significant passages underlined - every word in the book is underlined.
You stumble on by the Spiderman and Fantastic Four comic books featuring Dr. Doom.
You pass by the Zap comic books with the pages stuck together.
You tumble past the extra wide rolling papers bearing the visage of a former American Vice President and those suspicious looking baggies (copping one or two as you fly by...Shouldn’t be a total loss then.)
And you land in a little shapeless heap, right beside that great big, Olympic sized, thermally heated, el mondo grosso waterbed,
with the satin sheets, pink pillowcases, and the fur bed spread.
And as you pick yourself up off the floor you stop for a moment and you look around you and as you look around for the first time in the whole affair, you start to wonder,
you hear me folks? You start to wonder.
I don’t mean you just kinda wonder I mean you wu…uhhh…uhhhh….under baby!
I mean you wo, you wonder how the hell he got enough money to pay for all that shit in the first place is what you wonder!
Right about this time your sweetheart noticed the gun in your hand, and she come ups to you, she looks up at you, she says:
“don’t do anything self destructive now”.
Bitch
She looks up at you she says: “Johnny don’t point that that might be, Johnny don’t, oh Johnny no, Johnny don’t, oh no Johnny, no Johnny, oh God Johnny,oh Johnny, no, oh God, oh God!!
……………She knows your name is David.
And while she is talking to you, you see a, you see a great big tear form in the, left hand corner of her right hand eye.
For the first time in your whole relationship a genuine salt water tear.
You see that tear and it moves you, it moves you, heart and soul mind and body liver and spleen, the Islands of Langerhans and Medulla ala Longatta.
Folks I mean to say you see that thing and it moves you,
it, most of all it moves your hand holding the pistol so you got a dead bead on that lousy little tear going out the left hand corner of her right hand eye, that’s what it really moves!
And just as you’re, just as you’re about to pull the trigger.
Just as your about to squeeze out her life with the action and mechanism your about to perform,
just as your about to snuff out her entire existence, just as you’re about to do one thing you know can never ever undue, just as you’re about to send her on to the great beyond here after from which there is no return, henceforth hitherto whereas why for at all,
just as you’re about to kill the broad.
She looks up at you with those, weird eyes, and she says something to you at that moment, that stops you cold,
I mean she looks up at you and she says something to you at that moment that freezes your finger on the trigger, turns your knees to water and your brain to jelly, your toes to cupcakes.
It’s a pretty heavy thing she lays on ya.
She looks up at you at that moment, and she says...
gotta understand she knows she’s gonna die.
This girl is so close to death...
she looks up at you and, she says...
she’s so close to death she can read the caliber number and brand of the bullet that’s about to go through her brain that’s how close.
She looks up at you at that moment with those weird eyes, and she says...and those are weird eyes too I wanna tell you. This girl, no listen, this girl has weird eyes one of em’s red the others green. Used to be goin’ out with her she’d be blinking at me, stop, go, go stop ya know like that?
She looks up at you that moment and she says...
I’ll tell you what she says, just second, she says....
Ok next time I’ll tell you.
She looks up at you at that moment,
she cocks and eye at you, you cock an eye at her,
the two of you just stand there cockeyed for a half an hour.
And she says...she says...
”Hey, did you ever wake up, bullfrogs on your, bullfrogs on your, I mean mind, did you ever wake up…………?"

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 17:51:27 GMT

Your Easter Bunny Name is

Cinna Bun MacBunny

Get your Easter Bunny Name at Quizopolis.com