A Kindled Mind: July 2008

Scraping Away

It has been almost two months now, and I’m still practicing my viola with a good deal of fidelity. My bow still scrapes and squeaks and makes ungodly noises that I’m sure make my neighbors cringe, but the flubs are becoming more infrequent.

Returning to the beginning of musical training has been an enlightening experience for me. All of my piano experience can only take me so far when it comes to the nuances of this instrument, and I have had to force my brain to revert to beginner mode. Plodding away on my viola, the effort summons memories from my early childhood, when I struggled with controlling the volume, phrasing, and fingering of the piano. I remember practicing right hand exercises on the old upright piano in Mrs. Sample’s basement, clacking away with the rhythm sticks, and using red plastic disks to play a sort of musical bingo on the treble and base clefs. I also remember the proudest moment of my second year of lessons, when I mastered the two-hand version of Scarborough Fair (I still love that song).

Thanks to these memories, I am able to control my impatience and frustration during practice. As I slowly go through Frere Jacques for the umpteenth time, traces of Mrs. Sample’s patience and wisdom float up from my slightly unreliable mass of memory, and remind me that mastering any instrument takes years and years of dedication, no matter what your background may be.

So, in addition to my list of unattainable dream jobs, I can now add:
- Violist at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan

(By the way, my list also includes:
- Writer for Encyclopedia Britannica in Chicago
- Etiquette consultant in Washington DC
- Medieval manuscript specialist at the University of Leicester
- Assistant to the United States Ambassador to Brazil
- Marine biology journal editor for CSIRO publishing in Victoria, Australia
- Agent for a luxury goods exporter in Istanbul)

A New Favorite

At the farmer's market yesterday, I bought a heaping pint of fresh Michigan blueberrues, and was inspired to create a new sorbet. It turned out to be a delicious summer dessert, and the deep plum color is remarkably vivid.

Lemon Blueberry Sorbet

2 cups water
2 cups superfine sugar
4 lemons
1/3 cup chardonnay
2/3 cup blueberries
Zest from 1 lemon

1. Remove peel, pith, and outer membrane from the lemons. Remove the flesh from the lemon segments, discarding the seeds. Place the lemon fruit, chardonnay, blueberries, and zest in a blender or food processor, and puree until completely smooth.
2. In a medium-sized pot, bring the water close to a boil, and then add the sugar, stirring until the sugar is completely dissolved. Bring the syrup to a slight boil. Add the lemon blueberry mixture to the pot and stir thoroughly.
3. Immediately transfer the liquid to a large, non-reactive, freezer-safe bowl and place in the freezer. Whisk the liquid thoroughly every 30 minutes, breaking up any ice crystals that may form. Continue this procedure until the mixture obtains the smooth texture and appearance of sorbet. Allow the sorbet to freeze completely overnight.

Home Decor: The Final Frontier

The all-pervasive power of the Star Trek franchise has permeated nearly every facet of American culture. The futuristic gadgetry inspired the development of pagers, cell phones, and Blackberry. The 1960s original show even contributed slightly to the fashion scene (although the black wideleg clam-diggers/Italian boot combination was never too popular, for obvious reasons).

But now, with the franchise's latest movie due out in a few months, the true hold that Star Trek has on our society has been realized. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Tribble throw pillow.

This is no joke; I saw a whole herd of them at a store this very afternoon. Available at fine retailers across the nation, you can fill your sofa, bed, kitchen, bathtub, and holodeck with those adorable creatures that so nearly took over the USS Enterprise. Warning: Tribbles should not, under any circumstance, be fed in excess. Side effects may include fanfic cravings, staccato voice patterns, and hammy acting.

Makes me laugh every time...

Excerpt from PopInk's Happy Kitty Bunny Pony, with text by Michael J. Nelson:

What's fuzzy, chubby, chirpy, and cute? No, not Elton John. Chicks! Newly hatched chicks are simply one of the cutest things in the entire world. For about 2 days.

Then it's just eating and pooping and growing and breeding. In fact, there are more chickens in the world than there are people. 650 million chickens in America alone... watching, waiting, plotting. Unless you think all the chirping is just chirping. But go ahead, ignore the obvious signs. When you're buried in an avalanche of yellow puffballs, each one pecking and pecking viciously at your eyes and vitals with murderous intent, don't come crying to me.

Morrocan Lentil Soup

This is a fabulous new recipe I just discovered online. Hearty, spicy, and completely vegetarian. Highly recommended.

2 onions, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, minced
6 cups water
1 cup red lentils
1 15 oz. can garbanzo beans, drained
1 19 oz. can cannellini beans
1 14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
1 cup diced carrots
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon olive oil

1. In a large pot, sauté the onions, garlic, and ginger in the olive oil for about 5 minutes.
2. Add the water, lentils, garbanzos, cannellinis, diced tomatoes, carrots, garam masala, cardamom, cayenne pepper, and cumin to the pot. Bring soup to a boil; boil for 2 minutes, and then simmer for 1 to 1 1/2 hours or longer, until the lentils are soft.
3. Puree up to half the soup in a food processor or blender. Return the pureed portion to the pot and stir. Serve; garnish portions with chopped fresh parsley and salt.

From the mouths of 19th century authors...

...comes stunning prophesies about hydrogen fuel cells, currently being used to great effect in the Honda Clarity and other vehicles.

From Jules Verne's The Mysterious Island:

“But now, my dear Cyrus, all this industrial and commercial movement to which you predict a continual advance, does it not run the danger of being sooner or later completely stopped?”

“Stopped! And by what?”

“By the want of coal, which may justly be called the most precious of minerals… You do not deny that some day the coal will be entirely consumed?”…

“After the European mines, which will be soon worked more thoroughly with new machines, the American and Australian mines will for a long time yet provide for the consumption in trade.”

“For how long a time?” asked the reporter.

“For at least two hundred and fifty or three hundred years.”

“That is reassuring for us, but a bad look-out for our great- grandchildren!” observed Pencroft.

“They will discover something else,” said Herbert…

“But what will they find?” asked Pencroft. “Can you guess, captain?”

“Nearly, my friend.”

“And what will they burn instead of coal?”

“Water,” replied Harding.

“Water!” cried Pencroft, “water as fuel for steamers and engines! water to heat water!”

“Yes, but water decomposed into its primitive elements,” replied Cyrus Harding, “and decomposed doubtless, by electricity, which will then have become a powerful and manageable force, for all great discoveries, by some inexplicable laws, appear to agree and become complete at the same time. Yes, my friends, I believe that water will one day be employed as fuel, that hydrogen and oxygen which constitute it, used singly or together, will furnish an inexhaustible source of heat and light, of an intensity of which coal is not capable. Some day the coalrooms of steamers and the tenders of locomotives will, instead of coal, be stored with these two condensed gases, which will burn in the furnaces with enormous calorific power. There is, therefore, nothing to fear. As long as the earth is inhabited it will supply the wants of its inhabitants, and there will be no want of either light or heat as long as the productions of the vegetable, mineral or animal kingdoms do not fail us. I believe, then, that when the deposits of coal are exhausted we shall heat and warm ourselves with water. Water will be the coal of the future.”

My Operatic Life

O Bozhe! O Bozhe, shto podumal on,
Shto skazhet on? Akh, dlya chevo,
Stenanyu vnyav dushi bolnoi,
Ne sovladav sama s soboi,
Yemu pismo ya napisala!
Da! syerdtse mnye tepyer skazalo,
Shto nasmeyotsa nado mnoi
Moi soblaznitel rokovoi!
O, Bozhe moi! kak ya neschastna,
Kak ya zhalka!

- Eugene Onegin, Act I, Scene 3

Cute Fuzz

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The Eternal Struggle

I am a technical writer. I can prove it, too – it says so on my business card. Now, if only I can make my coworkers believe it.

Is it so impossible for a working woman to perform some secretarial duties and still maintain her professionalism? PHC employees outside of my department seem to see me clearly – they only call on me when they need something proofread, translated, or edited. But within the engineering department, I’m the girl who orders office supplies, keeps the plastic spoons in stock by the coffee machine, and enters data at their convenience; they are staunch troglodytes when it comes to women in the workplace. My actual work is ignored or written off as unimportant.

The whole arrangement wouldn’t bug me so much if it weren’t for the fact that I depend on the engineers to help me complete my projects. If they can’t view my work as necessary, they won’t put much effort towards helping me finish it. Case in point – I’m still waiting for data on a manual that I gave one of the engineers four months ago, and I haven’t the hierarchical authority to ask that he step it up a bit. Grrr.