Terrapin Station

The Leaning House

Since I don't have enough to worry about, I worry about silly things. 

Like, I worry about The Leaning House. 

This house is just down my street toward the University. 

"The Leaning House," yes, that's its name.  At one point I was describing it to a colleague who'd gone to school here long before.  He said, "Oh, yeah, I've done a lot of partying in The Leaning House."

You can also find it via a Google search.  According to one source it leans 12.5 degrees (is that all!?).   According to another source, it's been leaning like this for at least 25 years, and "many later famous UNT artists and musicians have spent early days here. An underground stream runs underneath it to feed a lake that is now Willis Library." 

A lake that is now the library?!

And apparently there was at one time a record label called The Leaning House label.  My neighbor played on some of their recordings. 

So, cute, quaint, funky...all the things that are (or used to be) hallmarks of this college town...but doesn't this look like a disaster waiting to happen?  I imagine that one night I'll wake up to a terrible noise and that will be the end of The Leaning House.  It's for sale now (ha!) but people were still living there pretty recently.  I hate to think of the mashed people inside...

updates as they occur...back to your regularly scheduled fretting...

Junk

I battle junk.  Clutter.  Whatever you want to call it. 

I come from a long line of "save it because you might need it some far day" people. 

I see this as a spiritual issue, as well as a space / tidiness / feng shui one. 

When I am finished living on this earth, my goal is to leave as little junk as possible for other people to go through.  There is a gracious plenty of material goods that I consider indisepensable treasures...who knows what the ones left behind will think of them...so I might as well get rid of what I KNOW is dreck as I go.  No?

2 AM, sinuses woke me to tell me rainstorm is on the way.  Come on already! 

While watching news I saw story about a hair collector (! talk about junk...) who has some of Michael Jackson's hair from 1984, when his hair caught fire doing the Pepsi commercial.  Gross.

Now they are going to make diamonds out of it. 

When I am dead, I respectfully request that anything useful from my body, be distributed.  Organs, skin, tissue, corneas...and you can cut off my hair and scatter it in the yard; it is good for bird nests.  Burn up the rest. 

But please, oh please, don't make a diamond out of me.  Because, to me, that would be junk. 

Creepy junk.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith

Seen in the univ bookstore when I stopped over there yesterday.  (I saw a real paperback book, not the Kindle version...but Amazon seems to be a little sleepish today.)

I did not buy it; I'm not amused by zombies.  But my son, who will be 20 on Saturday, IS.  Do you suppose this book would be any good if you hadn't read P&P?  Which I feel confident that he has not...

It begins thus: 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.  Never was this truth more plain than during the recent attacks at Netherfield Park, in which a household of eighteen was slaughtered and consumed by a horde of the living dead.

Who do you suppose makes up this stuff?  or, said a nicer way,

O, brave new world, that has such people in't!

A Little Bit Stressy

The swine flu situation seems far away, but it is causing rather a lot of concern in my world...since my world involves sending people all over The World. 

Please keep us in your prayers...those killed by the flu, sick with it, their families, those whose lives are being affected by it in their communities; those whose plans may be changing; and those of us who are dealing with that. 

Wide Awake and remembering Houston TV past

It's been a busy day and I can't seem to get my mind and body to shut down. 

I've done the following toward that end:

1. watched the "That 70's Show" marathon until I couldn't stand it anymore...

2. read a weird library book

3. tried another book, no dice

4. drunk herbal tea

5. Knitted part of a dishcloth (can't find the sock, ACK!  Domestic Goddess must have...stashed it somewhere.  I was cursing this and Ken reminded me that, um, I pay her to do that.)

6. paced around the house

7. taken dogs for moonlight walk

...no luck...

so of course I ended up at computer.  Checking blogs I found Deb's post where she refers to a local Cleveland kids' show from her childhood...and BLAM!  I remembered 

KITIRIK!

Pronounced "KIT-ir-ik"

She was this lady who had a kids' show in Houston on Channel 13 (call letters KTRK), and I was on it once for my birthday!    You rode around on this carousel and she would ask you how old you were when it was your turn to see her.  I remember being very sad because we had planned to take her a flower from our yard, but we forgot.  It was my birthday party, and all the guests got to sit in these bleachers and watch it.  I'm sure that was a real thrill!  My poor parents...I had just gotten over chicken pox and my little sister had it that day.  My Gramma Beth went to stay with her.   Nancy didn't get to see Kitirik.  I'm sure she is irreparably scarred...

I think it was 1970 or 71.  I hadn't thought of it in years, and now, friends, teh Internets are here to help me research it. 

Sure enough, I found references to it...a news story on Channel 13's website,

and this site, which reviews Kitirik and a number of other local shows I had forgotten, including "Don Mahoney and Jeanna Claire," which my brother Bill always called "Don Baloney and Jean the Bear."  I thought that was tremendously witty...

and even a Flickr! photo of Bunny Orsak, who played Kitirik:

Oh, she was the COOLEST.  I don't know why.  But she was. 

I know you are all tremendously excited about this.  I'm going to go try again for the sleeping...wish me luck.  I may be back.

Easter Swag

You may find this and other wonderfulness at Bridge Building Images.