an old but favorite skellington

It's always good to see the 1862 Punch cartoon, "The Arsenic Waltz" - such a deadly green to use for one's fancy clothes (or for that matter, the walllpaper).  This was accompanying Anna's works-in-progress paper (and preview for NAVSA in two weeks), on bitumen and art needlework (not that I can quite recollect what point it was illustrating ...).  I promise you that there were other people there, and on line ... our WiP series is such a great opportunity for grad students to try out papers in a safe environment andto get - not so much the kind of questions they'll get at a conference, as feedback about what might have worked better or differently.

 

skellies!

Here are the very best in our immediate neighborhood, as admired on this morning's walk. The skellies appear annually in the old ?1920s or 30s luggage funicular car - this time accompanied by an upside down stars and stripes labeled Vote or Die.  Quite so (although the length of time that it takes to fill out all of the ballot's 9 pages means that surely various people expire during the exercise itself).  

No other political ones on our route this morning - though a fair number of election signs themselves.  Ours is a fairly solid Raman community - I don't think I've seen a single Karen Bass sign around here (though there are two down by the reservoir).   One week to go ...

 

my ear

... and a very clean ear it is, inside and out.

As some of you know, I've been battling hearing problems since late May/early June, when a combination of lots of flights - 13 or 14 - in Argentina, and going up to 14,500 in the pre-Andes, created (or so I thought) around 60% hearing loss in my right ear - and if that wasn't bad enough, a feeling of being perpetually distanced in some kind of diving bell, or echo chamber, where not only did all sound become muffled, and it was difficult to tell what direction sounds were coming from, but it made me feel horribly cut off from the world (and grumpy). Social events, with fuzzy noises hitting me from every side, were a nightmare.

I've had to wait 4 months to see a specialist, during which time Googling didn't (of course) make me feel much better.  But first, the technicians at Keck peered deep into my ear - or as far as they could, because like my primary care doctor before them, all they could see was wax, and more wax: it was as though I had a wax cork in there.  So they used a tiny suction machine which I could watch on very magnified CCTV doing its magic (until I got unbearably dizzy, which is apparently normal), and then the specialist finished it off.  No, I've never had my ears deep-vacuumed before.

And now I can hear, just as well as before.  You can't imagine my gratitude.

leaf patterns

Well, it may not be Maine, but we do get fall here, all the same ... I hope these leaf spottings are healthy: they are on one of our two red bud trees, and it looks decidedly ... variegated. But it's deciduous, and behaving how it should, and I'm happy with that.

 

a very colorful Halloween ...

Remember that house in Silver Lake that was being repainted?  They've always had remarkably elaborate and well illuminated Halloween decorations ... now they look even more extraordinary and eye-dazzling.  Did I suggest a few days ago that decorations this year, overall, weren't quite as elaborate as they've been?  No need to have been worried: there are large pink and black spiders, and floating eyeballs, and endless skeletons, all over the place.

 

from the front door

It was looking particularly good today, weird shadow from the street lamp and all.  To be sure, I've raided Trader Joe's for cheap pots of marigolds and for lots of pumpkins, which blend perfectly with the shade of the house, and which therefore give an extra layer of - well, I'd hardly say designer chic: more like super-conventional middle-America - but it really was one of those days when one gulps at one's good fortune at living here.

 

rain

The weather today was decidedly dramatic and mercurial.  As I left the house this morning, I admired all the clouds massing over the mountains and moving away.  Twenty minutes later, somewhere at the top of S. Hoover, the heavens opened; cars started aquaplaning. and I can't have been the only person wondering where the white lines on the road had disappeared to.  A little later yet, and my customary USC carpark was looking completely beautiful, if damp.

Oh, and so far, so good - the sandbags held up yesterday and today.