Hoofed and behooved
August 6, 2010
This afternoon, I suddenly got to wondering how a word that looks like it would mean “possessing hooves” came to mean “be a good idea.” Is it because in ancient times before cars were invented, it was a good thing to have hooves, whether they were your own or those of an animal that was carrying or pulling you around? To one way or another have hooves would be advantageous. With the passage of time, did the original meaning get bastardized and generalized until “it would behoove you to” generically came to stand for “it would be a good idea if you”?
Such was my train of thought this afternoon as I pedaled home from work on my round, rubber hooves. I was also relieved that I had topic for tonight’s blog entry other than trying to make how I found half-price Birkenstocks at Marshall’s for my five-toed hooves sound interesting. Well, maybe this isn’t that much more interesting …
The behoove etymology study began at Online Etymology Dictionary.
behoove. O.E. behofian “to have need of,” verbal form of the ancient compound word represented by behoof.
behoof. c.1200, “use, benefit, advantage;” O.E. had bihoflic “useful,” implying *bihof “advantage, utility;” from P.Gmc. *bihafjan (cf. O.Fris. bihof, Du. behoef, M.H.G. bihuof, Ger. behuf “benefit, use, advantage”). In the common Germanic compound, the first element is cognate with be- and the second with O.E. hof, past tense of hebban “to raise” (see heave). The original sense is perhaps, then, “taking up (for oneself).”
hoof. O.E. hof, from P.Gmc. *khofaz (cf. O.Fris. hof, Dan. hov, Du. hoef, Ger. Huf “hof”), from PIE *kopos (cf. Skt. saphah “hoof”). For spelling, see hood. Sense of “to walk” (hoof it) is first attested 1641; “to dance” is 1921 Amer.Eng. (in hoofer).
A quarter in college of Chaucer in Old English does not qualify me as an expert, but I see “O.E. ‘hof’” in both entries. Does my idea have legs?
Also, show horses often have their hooves painted beforehand to make them look nice. In other words, to give them a winning advantage in the ring. It behooves them to have painted hooves.
hoof. “… corresponds to a nail or claw” (Merriam-Webster).
As a woman, does it behoove me to paint my hooves? Does it give me a winning advantage with the opposite sex? I think it’s a little overrated, myself, yet I kowtow to societal pressure and engage in this little bit of primping. This is a new shade, and in the store it looked like it would be quite a bit darker than it is. And these are my newest hoof shoes, the aforementioned Birkenstocks.
Of course I know what I’ve said is completely ridiculous. I’m just having fun.
Collection: produce stickers
August 4, 2010
I never meant to end up with a collection of stickers from my fruits and vegetables. It happened accidentally. It probably started when I was unpacking after a trip to the store and realized, hey, look at all these different stickers, I think I’ll stick them on my cupboard door.
Each sticker comes from an item that I myself consumed. The only exceptions are a couple of banana stickers that my mom brought me and one sticker from something that someone had at the office; I can’t even remember what it was, only that it was organic and that on the day I couldn’t resist grabbing the sticker, even though I knew that was cheating. There are also no duplicates.
I have thoughts of discontinuing the collection. But until I take down the old stickers, I will continue to add new stickers.
August 1, 2010
The day in walk: coin flip walk, July 31, 2010
August 4, 2010
Here’s a great way to explore: flip a coin. If it’s heads, go left. If it’s tails, go right. Do this an arbitrary number of times and set off. I did it ten times and walked. My route was RLRRLRLLLR.
I didn’t censor the coin’s choices. My only stipulation was that to make a turn, both left and right had to be available. I live in an area where two interstates junct and major roads intersect, so sometimes there’s only one way to go, as happened in between flips 4 and 5.
So here then is my walk. Each photo is at the corner looking in the new direction. It is a happy coincidence minus preplanning that my last turn set me in the direction of one of my favorite bars which was only a couple blocks further. What could I do but go have a beer (a delicious Bell’s Oberon)?
July 31, 2010
Local night out
August 4, 2010
It might be National Night Out, but I just had a little Kelly’s night out. Once again, I’d like to thank Tweak Today for giving me the boot in the seat that I needed to just do something. This evening that something was going to a restaurant I’d never been to and trying something I’ve never had.
Himalayan Restaurant is in my home neighborhood and was recommended separately by two of my neighbors. So when this assignment came up, I knew that’s where I was headed. It’s in an unassuming little building on the southeast corner of Franklin Avenue and 24th Avenue South, and the interior is typical of such restaurants.
A moment of quick scrutiny revealed that there were two Indian beers on the menu. I ordered the Kingfisher Lager because the other one came in a 22 ounce serving and I didn’t think I wanted that much. Silly me.
I had perused the menu online beforehand and pretty much knew what I’d get. I ordered the Kathmandu momo (steamed yak dumplings) to start. I was encouraged when my server—identified as Clerk 1 on my bill, shame on me for not looking for a nametag, I’ll call her Clara because I like alliteration—immediately piped up that they were her favorite.
For my entree I ordered the Khasi ko Masu (goat curry). I’ve had goat before, I think, at the Indian buffet where I sometimes go for lunch. I’m not actually sure. It gets dished up for you and I’m never quite clear which tag goes with which item; I just tell them to give me a variety. Again I was reassured when Clara said, as she served it, “My mom likes this. She loves to suck the meat off the bones. She’s Russian.”
I don’t eat out often enough to pretend to know whether what I ate was an outstanding example of Nepalese food and I’m not very critical anyway. What I do know is that Clara was delightful, the food was served steaming hot, the naan was the best I’ve had, and I have leftovers for another complete meal. The important thing for me is that I took myself out to a new restaurant, and it was a bonus that it was a place where I felt completely comfortable as a solo diner.
Hopping mad (Lars vs. Rolf)
August 3, 2010
Today I was supposed to show a mad face. It wasn’t explicitly stated that it should be my own mad face, but I assumed the implication. My personal policy is to not get mad because it’s usually not worth it and it just wastes a lot of energy that could be put to better use, such as talking and trying to work it out.
So instead, I drew these two angry rabbits facing off. And actually, the stare-down didn’t begin until they were in Photoshop. I can only draw them facing to the left.
Who do you think will win? The three opinions that I know of (mine, @thedigitalghost’s, and @superc0w’s) pick Rolf (righty). Lars (lefty) looks more like he’s stubbornly standing his ground versus actually being angry. Rolf looks like he has issues. There is tension in his body language and you just know he will explode at any moment.
That’s why they each do different henchmen jobs for Tiny-bunny.
I’m not saying that I’m never upset by things. I am. I have my mother’s leave-no-thought-unspoken enthusiasm, but it’s tempered by my father’s don’t-worry-don’t-be-angry mellowness. If something doesn’t sit right with me, it will be known to the outside world. But I also have the ability to usually just let it go and not take it personally, at least not for long.
What do you really gain in the long run by being mad?
Ode to universe
July 29, 2010
It was bound to happen eventually. It was finally going to be the blog entry in which I pondered my place in the universe (doing so without God???s aid, since I don???t believe in that*). I have no idea what my purpose is as I don???t seem to be accomplishing much and don???t see my future to be very different. Nothing I could say would sound like much more than a pity party. If I really don???t like it that much, make a change. Or even find God. Whatever.
On my bike ride home from work, I had a could-have-been-death experience and the place-in-universe (PIU) question became more focused, at least for the seven minutes that followed which encompassed the rest of my ride home during which time there could have been two more incidents. It must have been my karma today. I started out this morning grumpy and spent most of the day trying to overcome. But I did, and by the time I set out for home, I was feeling pretty good about things.
Biking downtown is, of course, an adventure every time. Even though I have a designated, dedicated bike lane, motor vehicles just refuse to acknowledge it (and me) 95% of the time. Usually it???s just a car or, at worst, a pickup truck or SUV. Today it was an 18-wheeler.
The problem is that the bike lane is in the middle of the road, so vehicles wishing to turn left must do so by cutting across the bike lane. If I haven???t made eye contact in the outside mirror, I wait.
Such was the case today.
I was approaching the intersection, and about fifty feet from it, a truck-truck drew even with me, then pulled ahead at pace. He at least gets credit for signaling his intent. But I was unable to establish eye contact even though I could see his entire head in his rearview mirror. Then sure enough he blithely began his left turn.
I was nearly stopped and was patiently waiting until he finished his turn, thinking it was a short, delivery-type truck. Thank goodness I looked over my shoulder to discover that there was a semi-trailer being pulled directly toward my position. I put my foot down to wait, then realized that I???d better keep moving directly to the left or I???d be clipped and the driver would be none the wiser.
Finally when there was only three feet of trailer left to go did I finally make eye contact with the driver, who was probably actually looking to see if he thought he???d clear the city bus on the cross-street. Sheepish wave from him. Gosh, thanks. I was using stronger language at the time.
So my first question is to the truck driver: where did you think I went in the thirty feet from the time you overtook me to when you initiated your turn?
My second question is: in the big scheme of things???the UNIVERSAL scheme, not just the personal orbit of a few of you who claim to like me and enjoy my company???what lasting impact have I truly made on your life????truly????no, REALLY.
In the universal scheme of things, what difference would my not being here actually have on things going forward? I???m realistic about that.
——————————-
*No disrespect to those who believe in God. It???s just not for me.
Original verse by me.
Life is but a dream
July 21, 2010
In an alternate universe, maybe dogs would be allowed on the lawns at Wimbledon. In an alternate universe, maybe I???d still be in London.
It has only been half a month since I returned from my London vacation, but already it???s a distant memory and hardly feels like it happened at all. Maybe I was just dreaming that I finally got to meet the world???s best dog, Casper. Maybe I was just dreaming that puny little me was actually inside the ground at Wimbledon. I stepped off the airplane with no plans of how to spend my nine days in London, except knowing that I wanted to go to Wimbledon because I was there during the time of the tournament.
In hindsight, I probably should have walked around looking at things more, since I was there. It was the day of the men???s semifinal matches and once Dan and I found a prime spot at the base of Henman Hill from which to watch Andy Murray???s match, we didn???t much move.
Dumb as it sounds, it was very exciting seeing in person things that I had seen on television for years. There were Centre Court and No. 1 Court. There were the prim and proper ushers keeping everyone in place. There were off-duty ball-boys and -girls giggling with each other. There were rowdy fans demonstrating national pride. There were the proper strawberries and cream; we had stopped at Tesco and bought some there.
And let???s not forget that there was yet another large hill to climb to get to the neighborhood. It seemed like every day, there was a breath-sapping hill to climb. Perhaps it was the alternate universe. In my previous visits, I sure didn???t remember London as being so hilly, except for getting up to the observatory at Greenwich.
We took Casper out to parks a few times. Maybe when he was chasing his beloved tennis ball he was really thinking about running on a finely dressed grass court at Wimbledon. It would have been a gas to set foot on a court. I remember what a cheap thrill it was when I took five steps out onto the field once at the Metrodome here in Minneapolis. In an alternate universe, maybe I would be a tournament finalist.
Okay, back to reality.??
Smile and the world smiles with you
July 20, 2010
We could all use more smiles in our lives. From a young age, I remember my mom sometimes saying, ???Smile and the world smiles with you.?????
Smiles are infectious.
In my daily goings out and about I have belatedly semi-embraced a philosophy that a friend of mine was mature and unselfish enough to embrace twenty-five years ago. He said that he couldn???t in good conscience pass by his fellow human beings on the street without making eye contact and acknowledging their existence. I don???t remember if he included a smile with that.
In recent times, perhaps since I moved to my new, scarier neighborhood four-and-a-half years ago, I have been more willing to make that eye contact. Maybe it???s simply a component of self-preservation. I believe that the nefarious types will be less likely to cause trouble if you acknowledge them and indicate that they don???t necessarily intimidate you. And if you give them a half-smile to boot, maybe you take even more power back.
Also, as a white, native, American, I am quite in the minority in this neighborhood which is populated largely by immigrants from eastern Africa, mostly Somalia. They tend to get a bad rap from whites like me who may not consider that, as usual, it???s a few bad apples who spoil it for everyone. I want to be friendly. When I make eye contact, smile, and perhaps say ???good morning,??? most of my neighborhood cohabitants respond with a surprised smile, then reply with their own pleased greeting. I like to think I???m doing my small part to foster good will in the neighborhood.
That eye contact and smile follows me downtown when I go to work. There I find people who are by and large like me, but the reaction is the same???slightly stunned and then, in kind. I don???t know, it just feels a little good.
I???m not looking for a pat on the back and I???m pretty sure I don???t want you to start talking to me. But I know I like having my existence acknowledged and figure you might feel the same way.
Smile and the world smiles with you.
Oddly enough, I’ve not yet talked about one of my great food loves, salad. Or at least not that I’ve previously keyworded. In addition to pizza, I also always enjoy a good salad, especially if there’s a lot of it. And eating salad from these large stoneware bowls brings me happiness.
I have loved these dishes pretty much from the time I got them. They, and their smaller siblings of which I also have two, were part of a Rainbow Foods store deal; the pattern is called Pinwheel. I originally bought them to use as salad dishes for my at-the-time two rabbits. They came in four colors—the red and eggplant purple pictured, as well as mustard yellow and khaki green. I decided just a little too late that I should have bought four complete place settings with plates, cups and saucers, and all the rest. A large factor in the delay was that I didn’t know which color I wanted to focus on. I also already have three different sets of dishes.
So gradually I commandeered them from my rabbit(s) (what choice did they really have?) and they are now the preferred vessel for my own salads. I particularly think that the purple one sets off the veggie colors quite nicely.
As far as ingredients bffs go, there are four, all pictured. I already knew that I liked the tortilla+refried beans+cheese combo. But I have only relatively recently come to the variations of each that I now favor, plus the fourth brand-new one.
I have loved cheese and used tortillas forever, and for at least a decade have embraced whole beans as well. More recently I realized that refried beans are my friend—the mashing is already done!
Most recently, I tried the Cruz whole wheat tortillas. They are moist and not at all barky and are more nutritious than corn or white flour versions. On a whim, instead of plain refried beans, I dared to pick up a can of refried beans with green chilies. So good! For over a year, pepperjack cheese has been my overall go-to cheese. I use it in cheesy frittatas for breakfast, sometimes in my homemade egg/muffin sandwiches, and almost exclusively in the tortilla situation.
The surprise entry to delicious is the tomatillo. The Cub Foods where I do most of my shopping (because, I kid you not, they are the only store that sells a pound of spring mix salad greens for only $6.99) stocks heavily on the hispanic ingredients (and if I should use a term other than hispanic, do pardon me please). When I am strolling through the produce department picking up my usual tomatoes, onions, zucchinis, mushrooms, bell peppers, and sweet corn, I always think about the suggestion that each time you go to the store, you pick up one thing you’ve never tried before. It seems like a good idea, but I hardly ever do it spontaneously if it’s not something I need for a recipe.
But this time I did. Hello, tomatillo, my new best friend in kitchen, particularly in the context of tortilla+refried beans (with chilies)+cheese (pepperjack), as well as onions and peppers. You are the finishing touch that this amalgamation was looking for. You are a member of the nightshade family, like the tomato, but you have such a different, more savory, somewhat chile-y flavor. You are perfect for thinly slicing and adding, just before I grate the pepperjack. Bake at 400° for fifteen minutes and you have a simple masterpiece.
Apple-flavored Kool-Aid
June 17, 2010
Despite my best effort, I do not have an iPhone 4 pre-ordered or even merely reserved. Why? Because Apple??AT&T decided to discriminate against people who, for whatever reasons, only have a debit card and not a credit card.
My own story is that I had personal bankruptcy effective December 31, 2004. I have found it surprisingly easy to lead a cash-based existence. I suppose that???s in part because banks for a long time have given you VISA debit cards, so I can pretend that I have a ???charge??? card, even though it comes (relatively) right out of my checking account.
That was all fine and dandy until yesterday, Day of the iPhone 4 Pre-Order. Yesterday, Day of the iPhone 4 Pre-Order, was the first time I have ever run into a SNAFU because my card is debit not credit.
At lunchtime, I made my way over to the downtown AT&T store because that was most convenient. I drank the Apple Kool-Aid a long time ago, as I believe I have mentioned previously, and would have preferred checking in at one of their stores, but as it was a non-weekend workday, I made do with what was available.
I can???t blame anybody but myself for this lack of fulfillment. I arrived at the AT&T store where the line-managing concierge made a frequent point of mentioning that debit cards would not be accepted and that if that was all you had, you should save yourself some agony and turn back now. I smugly watched three people ahead of me in the line of nine bail. I am an experienced Apple line-waiter. I stayed.
Oh, and I also answered to at least two passersby who wondered what the line was for, that AT&T was giving away a million dollars but that they should keep it on the down-low.
Yeah, then reality set in.
My turn with a CSR came and I had an enjoyable fifteen minutes with Zach while he waited for the overloaded AT&T and Apple systems to process each screen of information. Then came the Moment of Doom. I realized that my card was debit not credit.
It???s not that I???m dumb. I know the charges come right out of my checking account. But I???ve never been denied, because the card with the VISA logo, etc., is supposed to work “everywhere VISA is accepted.??? Right. Apparently not in Cupertino, California??AT&Tland.
The official line is that in previous pre-order situations, people were confused because a ???hold??? is placed on the total $$, though (as usual) the account activity doesn???t occur until the purchase is shipped. People less smart than I did not comprehend that it was not an actual duplicate removal of funds. Apple??AT&T decided not to deal with the questions this time around.
Freakin??? awesome.
I tried to be interested in picking up something for lunch on the way back to the office, then decided I???d see what would happen if I tried pre-ordering online at the Apple website. The first two attempts failed. The third attempt denied me for some reason other than my debit card, because I never got so far as being asked to enter the number. But what it did ask me was whether I wanted to ???reserve??? one at a store to pick up on the Day of Release. YES, PLEASE.
I then got a friendly web page that said something to the effect of ???thank you, your iPhone will be ready for you to pick up.??? There was no subsequent email confirmation. I was nervous that I had any kind of deal.
In the evening I saw the headline informing the world that AT&T stores had sold out of their allotted pre-orders. Skepticism crept closer.
This morning I tried the Apple site again and saw that instead of ???Ships: Arrives on June 24th??? it said ???Ships: By July 2nd.??? After lunch it said ???Ships: By July 14th.??? What?
Then I saw the headline that over 600,000 iPhone 4s had been pre-ordered. Whoa! Panic!
I called the store where I thought I might have an iPhone 4 on reserve. Nope, they didn???t have me on their list and, of course, I couldn???t be added.
My main motivation for wanting to acquire an iPhone 4 on the day of its release is because I???m leaving for ten days in London the next day, and my current iPhone 1 (bless its Edge network soul) is beat up and cracked, and water seeped into those cracks a few weeks ago and caused the top half of the touch screen to no longer work. Although I have gotten quite adept at creatively rotating the thing to accomplish tasks, there are some important actions that I can???t do, such as dial a phone number with the keypad.
So it???s down to this. I will draw on my line-waiting experience at an Apple Store around dawn on June 24th and hope for the best. If the iPhone 4 stock has been depleted by the time it???s my turn, I will instead get the $99 iPhone 3GS and figure out the rest (with regard to contracts and upgrade prices) later. I really want to take something that is fully functional in every way with me on my trip.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 