Parents visit

They were here for a week, and it was a calm week with plenty of activity. They left for two days to visit Donnis and Frances, then were gone some more for my mom's 50th college reunion at St. Olaf.

We had some good family activities (bowling, grilling out) and some new culinary experiences (eating at Sauced, making grilled scallops). A fine time!

Last Wednesday - climbing at Red Wing

Took a day off to get in some much needed climbing. Hadn't climbed for over 2 weeks!
We got to the cliff and started pulling out gear and discovered that neither of us had brought quickdraws! Fortunately there was a young guy bouldering nearby who loaned us some. We warmed up on a generic 5.9, then to the Cyclops area. Shawn led Urban Chunks (5.11a). I then led it clean - and it felt easy.

Then Shawn got on Cyclops. He made the 3rd clip clean, although he commented that it was a little greasy. Then had a mighty struggle to get to the 4th clip. The crux is just at/past the 3rd clip. Then Calvin, the boulderer, gave it a go. He actually popped off while going for the 3rd clip, and DID NOT hit the ground - a good discovery. I opted for a top rope ascent. I had to re-figure out the crux, but now feel that I could possibly lead it.

Then Shawn led Work Ethic, with one fall? I tried for a lead ascent, but didn't feel up to the bottom crux. However I led everything past the 2nd clip. This 5.12a route will fall to me this year!

The Calvin got on The Start of Something Good at Shawn's urging. I got a photo of him at the crux - I'll post it later. He did the moves, and found the route to be quite strenuous.

Ah, the obsession continues

Watched the 3rd episode of the 2nd season of Doctor Who. David Tennant has officially grown on me. Like fungus. Can't get him off. Nice mix of emotion and SF magic in this episode. While it doesn't go to great lengths to explain the science, it doesn't seem utterly laughable. And after all, when does Doctor Who go to any lengths to explain the science?

Favorite Scene: Rose and Mickey are tied down, about to be used for parts. The Doctor arrives to save the day, apparently drunk off his arse wearing sunglasses with his tie around his head.
The Doctor: "Have you met the French? My... GOD, do they know how to party."
Rose: "Look what the cat dragged in. It's the Oncoming Storm."

Nice reference to his tragic/romantic/heroic role as the nemesis of the entire Dalek race. I don't remember this in the old Who, but it is noted in the wikipedia article on the Doctor.

"To his greatest enemies, the Daleks, the Doctor is known as the Ka Faraq Gatri, the "Bringer of Darkness", "Destroyer of Worlds" or "The Oncoming Storm". This is first mentioned in the novelisation of Remembrance of the Daleks by Ben Aaronovitch and subsequently taken up in the spin-off media, particularly the Virgin New Adventures books and the Doctor Who Magazine comic strip. In "The Parting of the Ways", the Doctor claims that the Daleks call him "The Oncoming Storm" — this name is used by the Draconians (whose word for it is "Karshtakavaar") to refer to the Doctor in the Virgin New Adventures novel Love and War by Paul Cornell."

Update: we've watched another six episodes! Some major character development, a weak episode, a couple of really far-out space adventures, and last night we watched "Love and Monsters", which I'd have to say was a beautiful little piece of storytelling. Oh so nice, despite the absence of the Doctor and Rose for much of the show. David Tennant has made the character his own and I like his mercurial personality, his angry face, his volubility.

Climbing goals 2008

Leads I will do at Taylor's Falls
Fallen Knight
The Bulge - no hangs
Sentinel Crack - no hangs
Skin of Rod's Teeth? Hangs OK on this one!

Leads I will do at Red Wing
Cyclops
Annadonia
Advanced Birding

Things I want to climb someday

Devil's Tower -
McCarthy North Face
El Matador
Hollywood and Vine

Red Rocks -
Epinephrine
Dream of Wild Turkeys
Prince of Darkness
Crimson Chrysalis

These are all reasonable goals, certainly within the scope of believability for me to climb them.

What happened on my run today

Post work Toad and I set off for a 3 mile run. Ross declined because of his nasty cold. As is often the case, Toad pooped within the first block. When this happens I bag the poop and place it on the outer part of the sidewalk, next to a tree or at the edge of a driveway, for pick-up on my return. I never leave it unbagged on someone's yard. As per usual I picked up the poop from some guy's yard and placed it at the outer edge of the sidewalk. Then Toad and I continued - down Brookside, across the creek, to the corner of 44th street, and along 44th Street for about a block.

At this point I heard a voice over my shoulder; "Hey, you forgot something." I turned to see a guy on a bicycle, just as he tossed something at me. It hit the ground at my feet - the bag of Toad's poop.

Instantly I yelled at his retreating form (he biked past me and up the street), "I was going to pick it up on my way back!" He looked back, shaking his head. My disbelief blossomed into outrage. I screamed after him, "I WAS GOING TO PICK IT UP! I DO IT ALL THE TIME!"

I bent to pick up the poop, suddenly shaking with anger - and tears. The old guy tending his lawn nearby asked if I was OK; I said yes, but shook my head, fighting back tears.

It's not that this was so horrible and evil. It's just that it seems like such a ineffective and childish way for him to deal with his issues. I ALWAYS pick up Toad's poop, so he can't have been mad about me leaving bags behind. And he didn't try communicating with me. He threw poop at me! What an asshole! It's just such an absolute lack of respect. I respect the owners of the lawns - I bag the poop, I don't leave it.

So. That's all.

Doctor Who fanfic

The internet is a lovely, lovely thing. The extent of Doctor Who resources (or, in fact, "anything" resources) on the web just blows me away. Repeatedly. I have found not only massive pages of Doctor Who research, timelines, factoids, etc, but gigantic collections of fanfic - short stories and even long stories by the legions of devoted and talented fans. In truth, one can find fanfic for probably every science fiction fandom. Certainly there's lots of Star Trek fanfic. I actually once found a page of West Wing fanfic.

One of my happy finds recently is the "Mauve and Dangerous" awards from 2005; the Doctor Who community on livejournal apparently put this together after the first season of the new Doctor Who. I haven't read them all, but every one I have read has been superb. Thoughtful, literary, beautiful.

http://www.loony-archivist.com/mad/winners.htm

Here's a couple of paragraphs that I thought did such a nice job of describing personalities and cameraderie between Rose and the Doctor. I ought to credit it; here's the source:

http://ljconstantine.com/fanfic/ivory.htm

"From the start, she treated the Doctor just as she would have Mickey or one of her mates, and he had responded in kind. She would give his shoulder a solid whack when he was mouthing off, playing the arrogant know-it-all. He would poke her in the side with a stiff finger when he wanted her undivided attention, or grab her elbow to steer her in whatever direction he was headed. She would deliberately crowd him, and he would playfully push her aside with his hip or shoulder, pretending annoyance, but always grinning—within, if not without. She couldn't begin to count how many times, once the console had stopped oscillating, the Doctor had swept her up and spun her around in sheer joy at anticipation of the next death-defying scrape he was about to get them into.

Like Mickey, the Doctor acted like a big kid. Rose found it equal parts endearing and exasperating. 900 going on 5, she would always tease him. Then again, playing grown-up at the tender age of 19 to an overgrown adolescent was hardly uncharted territory. Her mum was always kitted out in some outfit better suited to a girl half her age, and making passes at Rose's boyfriends whenever she brought them home.

In contrast to her mother fiercely clinging to her long-forgot youth, the Doctor's youthful exuberance was natural, genuine. It sprang from a child-like sense of wonder, rather than a childish denial of age. It softened his features, which could—and Rose had seen this far more times than she'd ever expected—go stony cold in an instant, fierce and calm and deadly serious. Then she could believe he was hundreds of years old and the last of a nearly immortal race with mastery over space and time.

But when he was grinning over some mad plan, or a rare flower blooming on a desolate world, or because some seven-armed, three-headed alien had just offered him 20 of his/her/its newly-hatched offspring as concubines, then it was easy for her to forget. Easy to pretend he was 40 going on 5, and she was 19 going on 40, and they could meet up halfway on the sliding scale of maturity."

These writers out there! They take what we're given in the TV show and ponder it, consider the ramifications, elaborate, imagine, make it more than it was.

People I wish would email me out of the blue

Laura Carlson. So far in my past, yet she was my life.

Ed McGuire. Weird, wacky, wonderful Ed. Dear friend.

Elizabeth Powell. Lost touch again, and it hurts. Wish I could have been a better friend when you needed me to be.

James Abbott. Dude, you taught me to play Bridge. That means so much to me.

Maia Ledoux. No pressure, but I miss you. And I'm not trying to say that it's your job to keep in touch with me or anything like that... I just love you and wish I could visit more often.

Well, I don't want to cheapen this list by adding too many names. There are certainly other people I'd love to hear from, but this is the special list.

Things I forgot to mention

Again; how could I forget Daniel Craig as James Bond in my list of obsessions? Hoo boy.

In another lifetime I hope I am a linguist. My fascination with Bond led to my first encounter with the notion of "received pronunciation", and my recent infatuation with Doctor Who and the "northern" Doctor led to an interesting foray into the wikipedia articles on English, the features of various English dialects and so on. The 10th Doctor, David Tennant, is Scottish but is described variously as speaking London English, or Estuary English. In the way of things internet this led me to a diversion into American vs. British English, and the vagaries of American regional dialects.

I WANT to go to England. I want to visit Scotland. I want to be surrounded by Scottish accents, and to drink Scotch whiskey all night long. I want to visit the home of the Bronte sisters. I want to climb in the peak district. I want to do all these things with Ross. I want to go to the Tate Modern.

This morning

This morning I told Toad to "get thee to a nunnery."
Ross said it should be, "get thee to a bunnery."

I love tulips. I love this time of year. Every plant explodes from the ground, all that pent up energy. All that energy sucked from the sun and transformed. Ah the greenery. I've never considered myself a birder - in fact, I've considered birders to be a unique and slightly pitiable sort of geek... rather judgemental, considering what sort of unique and slightly pitiable sort of geek I am myself. But my environment has given me a greater appreciation for birds. So much birdlife in the marsh. In the spring I've learned to identify birdcalls. The woodpeckers have a distinctive "chirrup chirrrup". I've seen at least three kinds. This morning it was a smallish woodpecker with bright red head. Loads of cardinals, then red wing blackbirds, then robins. I swear I saw some orioles last week.

I am so torn by the desire to "get medieval" on the lawn's ass, and the desire to be environmentally sensitive. I want to blast the creeping charlie. I want to prevent the crabgrass. I don't want to put chemicals in the groundwater.

A Doctor Who writing from my college years...

Brief intro - this scenario features Tom Baker as the Doctor, and me and MT as his companions. MT was my cousin Sara's infatuation at the time.

The Doctor - All right, Kiri, open the doors and we’ll take a look outside.
Kiri - Doors opened… aigh!!
MT - It looks like… a… giant barbecue!!
Doctor - But what are they barbecuing? Perhaps we should go out for a closer look.
Kiri - I don’t know about that, Doctor.
(cut to a view out of the Tardis doors – a valley lies below, at the bottom of which several tall beings are gathered around several large barbecues. Over the distant mountains, the sun is setting.)
Doctor – off we go, then. (They trudge out, Kiri and MT exchanging reluctant glances. They descend toward the barbecues, the succulent smell of roasting meat wafting up to them from time to time.)
MT – My stomach is growling.
Kiri – I wonder if they’d like guests for dinner?
Doctor – I hope not literally.
(A sudden roaring noise comes from behind them. They whirl around to face a huge form lumbering out of the trees.)
Doctor – Hello! Might we join your barbecue?
Being – What food do you eat?
Kiri – Moon Frog.
Being – MOON FROG???!!!!!
Doctor – Yes, Moon Frog. (To Kiri) What the hell is moon frog?
Kiri – It’s kinda like chicken.
Being – There are legends among my people of the strangers who will come to us, professing to eat the great Moon Frog… You are gods!

Weekend of good things

On Saturday I raked some garden beds. Ross decided to finally tackle a job that he had been dreading - the adjustment of valves on his VFR. He said he was kind of afraid of it, but decided it was time. When he loosened the bolts that hold the cam cover the valve spring pushed the cam up and cocked the cover, jamming it on the bolt studs. He pondered the problem and decided to tap the cam cover in order to push it down and try to wiggle it off.

One tap; the cover flew off into the air, the cam itself lept out of the bike and flew across it, smashing the glass of beer that sat on the floor. You never know what's going to happen.

So we both got useful things done on Saturday; I did some other stuff, washed some clothes, etc. Tracked dirt into the house and didn't clean it up. Went to Shawn and Nancy's for dinner, hung out. Their daughter, Maya, is such a kid.

Sunday I went to Taylor's Falls with Katie and Shawn. The big "goal" for the day was to let Katie take the first preparatory steps toward trad lead climbing. Shawn teaches and lectures for his job, so it comes naturally to him. He talked a lot; I suggested that a logical sequence would be for me to lead and her to follow, cleaning the gear, then for her to pretend to lead on toprope, then possibly for her to lead with preplaced gear, and finally for her to actually lead and place all gear herself. As it turned out, we got through the first two steps. I lead Blue Moon, a climb I have led about a billion times. It is blissfully easy, although there is a brief, awkward crux under a large overhang. When the time came for Katie to practice placing gear she did a great job. Shawn, meanwhile, was climbing with Alicia who had driven down from Duluth to join us. I had never met her before; she went to school in England and did a lot of climbing on gritstone over there, but was recovering from a pretty bad foot ligament injury. She and Shawn climbed some easy routes.

After Katie and I had both climbed Blue Moon twice it felt like time for something new... time for me to face my "nemesis". I racked up for the Bulge. The Bulge is rated 5.10a. Well within my ability. I've actually led it before, but not cleanly. Maybe even more than once? In any case, I REALLY want to lead it clean this year. My physical ability is not matched by my mental confidence. I whipped through the opening moves, placed two ball nuts before the first crux. If this had gone faster I would have been in great shape, but I felt the need to shake out a bit. Then pulled into the crux and gasped, "I can't do it!" Shawn, Katie and Alicia all yelled, "Yes you can! Go for it!" and I did, slamming my foot into the good spot and standing up. I had made it, but had to stay calm while fumbling for the large cam for my next piece of pro. Got it in and chilled out. Got a nut in above the large cam slot, then stood and got a nut in the next good crack above. This was going well, except that the second crux of the route was above me, and my arms were on fire. I shook out desperately, started to move into the next sequence, and then sighed, "No, I don't have it," and slumped onto the rope.
Encouragement from Katie and Shawn drifted up to me; I let my burning forearms hang, and studied the next moves. I KNEW them; the step up, very positive right hand, left into a sidepull, left foot up and lever to a standing position, stretch tall and grab the point of rock... the scariest thing about that sequence was going to be not the moves but the time spent getting in some pro after making the moves. So then I did it; matched hands on the point, tried for a large nut in the slot just by my hands. First nut didn't fit, second seemed almost too big. I doubted it, but clipped a quickdraw and the rope anyway. Psychological protection. One more step up and I could reach the lovely parallel-sided crack just above the handhold. Perfect, so perfect for a cam. I slammed one in. The top of the route is such a relief; the angle eases, the weight comes off your arms. Cracks abound.
I did my usual crap job of positioning my top anchor; a solid anchor, but I ended up stepping back over the edge to belay, leaning over the void with my PAS (Personal Anchor System) clipped to my strong point. Katie followed with some hanging to remove the gear.
Then we did some half-assed bouldering and ended up in the Slicksides area where some other people we knew were climbing. Got on both Slicksides and Schlocksides, twice. I discovered the sequence that will work for me on Schlock. Words for the day: intrepid, and profane.
Then went home in a pleasant aura of physical exhaustion. Ross and Pat were working on the CRX, so I walked the dog, still in the pleasant aura, and made a new friend in the neighborhood who happens to be a rabid science fiction fan.
And finally, Ross and I went to see the Iron Man movie, which absolutely rocks. I'd say more, but you have to see it yourself. It is a fine, fine movie, and walks the fine, fine line between gritty realism and comic book escapism with admirable verve.

An addition

I TOTALLY forgot... in my recitation of obsessions: Hamlet. How could I forget? How I loved the Prince of Denmark! His attire! His depression! His flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar! Because of course Mel Gibson's Hamlet movie was what inspired my retelling of Hamlet - in space.

Ross and I have now watched two episodes of the second season of Doctor Who, with David Tennant now in the title role. I will quote a comment I read online - I think I can love David Tennant in the role, but it won't be the same. Who fans online are fond of saying that your first Doctor is YOUR Doctor... of course in my case that would be Peter Davidson, but he was very quickly supplanted in my feelings by Tom Baker, and that was all so very long ago that now Christopher Eccleston really feels like my first Doctor anyway.

So. David Tennant. There's loads more manic disposition, but he talks too much. Chris spoke words with a glance. David babbles. There's no brooding menace. Although as I ponder those two Tennant episodes, I find myself picking out sweet moments... nice bits among the action and the insanity and the alien invasions, that really tell a lot about the characters and the shifting relationships and the tremendous difficulty of us earthlings in getting used to the idea of a body-changing 900 year old alien. The way in which his attitude toward Mickey and Jackie has changed. Although I wish there had been lots more, the ways in which Rose grieves for the old Doctor AND accepts the new. The fact that, despite his manic disposition, the Doctor shows a ruthless and daring side. A man of action. In the second episode (New Earth), the intensity of his concern for Rose. The fact that he appears to accept her odd behavior, but then demands to know what the hospital staff have done to her. The sequence of his behavior here seems appropriately alien.

Just to show that I often think of things other than Doctor Who... heard a talk by Donna Brazil on the upcoming election, and she nearly spoke my mind. I felt a great affection for her no-nonsense demeanor and her message. "Let's get past the negativity." She stated her willingness to fight hard for either Hillary or Barack, to go to "all 50 states" for either one. I appreciate that stand. So tired of the infighting. The blatantly partisan position of Rolling Stone (the magazine) has got me wanting to cancel my subscription. Well, that and the fact that I leaf through it once and am done with it...

I got acupunctured last Tuesday, and it was good.
I've been going to this woman for over ten years now. Needless to say, I am a fan of acupuncture. I usually see her once or twice a year for a "tune-up". Her name is Diana and she exudes a calm that I will call zenlike. She has always seemed so profoundly grounded to me, with a gentle humor that manifests itself in a quirk of her mouth.

The needles don't hurt. The experience is so restful, like floating. She leaves me for a while - half an hour? and I drift. Then she comes back and I roll over and she sticks needles along my spine. I always leave with a gentle high; like a new ability to look at the world around me and take pleasure in the smallest things. The color of the sky. Air movement. Getting into a sunwarmed car. Sometimes I feel like I have a relapse, the day after. As if the muscles that finally relaxed have clenched themselves to protect me. Last week was not like that; I feel like I regained a level of happiness.