The Dino-Aspie Ex-Café (for Those 40+... or feeling creaky)

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Hi, Timberwolf and welcome to the cafe.

Thanks for your input, too. I'm beginning to think the whole "growing up" thing is relative. Different people grow in different ways.

Anyhow, I think I'll have to pass on the muffins, too.

Bunni, how does the state run insurance thing work? I know some politicians here in the states like to use it as an election issue, but that many seem to be afraid it will bring down health insurance as a whole.

Nan, your little guy is turning out to be cute.

Post, I don't think an attack dog is needed so much as someone that can counter the lies told from the other side. I think that's what dd Kerry in last time.

nannarob, if your around I wanted to say hi

Bunni, I would love a cheescake, too. Maybe we can split a whole one.

I think the rebuilding during the war, btw, was a recent invention. I don't think anyone rebuilt at all after WWI

Well, rebuilding at all is indeed a recent invention - the Marshall Plan, which helped rebuild Europe and Asia after WWII, was inspired in part by observation that one of the factors that had made the War happen was the lack of any attempt to rebuild Germany along peaceful lines after WWI. (In fact, the Treaty of Versailles placed such punitive reparations costs on the Germans that the German economy was utterly destroyed - leaving the field ripe for a certain Austrian paperhanger with dictatorial ambitions...)

On the other hand, trying to rebuild during the war is a peculiarly Bushie thing to do, methinks, reflecting the man's utter incapability to consider likely repercussions of his actions.

Well... it was fun. 121 beers. I started with a theme of "boring one-word Yorkshire beers". Hence Old Bear's "Original" (3.9), Hambleton's "Bitter" (3. and E&S Elland's "Nettlethrasher" (4.4)... but my theme was beginning to slip, already. My next was Grainstore's "Winter Nip" (7.7), the most alcoholic beer there, and the last I remember. I'm told I had a second pint of that, a pint of Weston's "Old Rosie" (7.3) scrumpy, and maybe something else.

I remember eating my curry, a few hours later on.

I don't know about another form. I'll have to look into that I guess.

I have tons of patterns for Scherenschnitte if she's interested

I've been knitting like crazy just lately, and got alot done while watching the DNC last night.

Those scissors are something I tell ya I've worn several pairs out too. I'll post some pics of my work one of these days.



It's a seperate program for those that don't have insurance, and don't qualify for Medicaid. Just another program with a long waiting list cus it's capped to only cover so many. It's useless because of that. I wonder how many on the list will die before making it to the top.



decadent indulgence



Peculiar Bushie, sounds like porn (Did I say that in my outside voice?)

Lurking and stimming as usual....

We just had an Arts Festival here in York, PA. I'll post some pictures soon...

I guess it's safe to assume that Scherenchnitte scissors are smaller then shrubery trimming shears? (Which I have enough trouble handling and highly disiere handled by someone else to begin with.) Unless Richies pictures take up the sides of buildings. I'm not even sure where one would purchase the paper. I've never seen it in a craft store. Perhaps it is available mail order.

Philosopher's song of University of Wallamaloo, Australia

(And now all four Bruces launch into the Philosopher's song)

Immanuel Kant was a real piss-ant who was very rarely stable.
Heideggar, Heideggar was a boozy beggar who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out-consume Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel.
And Whittgenstein was a beery swine who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.

There's nothing Nieizsche couldn't teach 'ya 'bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.

John Stewart Mill, of his own free will, after half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away, half a crate of whiskey every day!
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
And Hobbes was fond of his Dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart:
"I drink, therefore I am."

Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed.

You can use any kind of paper. Back when it was a fad of sorts, Backstreet Designs sold specific papers for Scherneschnitte along with books of designs. I didn't like paying for the fancy paper, so i bought parchment paper, and fade resistant construction paper. You can use wrapping paper for backgrounds, or scrapbook papers would do well.

Aside from the little scissors, I also sometimes use an xacto type knife, with a small swivel blade. It's not as convenient and doesn't give as much control. Here is a link to what they look like: http://www.craftcatalog.com/Scherenschn ... 11825.aspx

Spike is STILL alive. He's doing well this morning, eating nicely, sleeping on his heating sack, chirping for his breakfast.... and breakfast....and breakfast....

Amazingly. Never trust a vet you don't know well. They wanted to euthanize Spike last night.

well, then you would stop calling. ! LOL

seriously Nan, not many people think like you do about a wild thing. I think it is as much for you as it is for Spike and that is the best of both!

Merle

yea! SPIKE, yea!NAN, you go girl!

GO Spike!! !

The damned vet was up in my face, pretty much between me and the door to the room where they had Spike, and saying "we HAVE to humanely euthanize him" and I was like "get the hell out of my way, where is Spike and what have you done to him????" and preparing to physically shove her aside and just grab him and run if it came down to that. (I was really, really tired. I hadn't had more than two hours' sleep at a time in the last 10 days.) She left the room to get someone else in there when I kept saying we were going to take him home, so the kid and I went in and grabbed him, grabbed his box, and walked out to the front desk and paid his bill and left.

We went in to get antibiotics. Not to be told he had "maybe, possibly, potentially, hypothetically" a zillion things wrong with him by a vet who doesn't specialize in birds and that it's tough to keep a bird this young alive and that he should just be killed outright because we might, at some point in the future, accidently feed him incorrectly and choke him.

The kid was so angry she was red in the face and about to take a swing at the vet, I think. I havent' seen her that furious in years.

He's a person, not something you throw away because he's inconvenient! He's halfway there - they start leaving the nest and pecking at their own food at about 3 weeks old. He's at a week and a half now, that we know of. Little guy has a hell of a strong will to live. Oh, yeah, just pay us $100 and we'll put him in a box and kill him for you. Right. When HELL freezes over!

I'll take a photo and post it tonight. He looks a ton better than a couple of days ago. He's sitting on his heating thingy in his box by my filing cabinet and "peep"s inquisitively now and then to see if I'll come over with the magic food dispenser and give him a mouthful.

Euthanize him. I've gotten five connected hours of sleep (last night, the kid took over feeding/watch duties) and am now fully in command of my faculties. I called to get this vet's name (forgot it), asked the receptionist if she could leave a message for that doc about Spike. Receptionist looked up the name, and I could hear the "he didn't last the night, did he" sound in her voice. I said "This is Nan, we brought Spike in last night. You wanted to euthanize him. I called to let you know that, not only did he make it through the night, but he's no longer wheezing, is moving about well, has his appetite back, and seems to be just fine. Thought you should know that." and the receptionist gave a little cheer noise and said she would make absolutely sure that message was delivered.

I'd love to shove that vet's head into a box and pump it full of gas right now....

{edit - PS - It's a domestic zebra finch. A cage bird. If it was a wild baby I'd have had it down to "Project Wildlife" where they handle wild animals. But they won't take domestic birds....}

Last edited by Nan on 27 Aug 2008, 4:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Sometimes I feel really old. I am, according to most people who know me, intellectually and culturally advanced for my age. I'm also a pathological penny-pincher with a ton of small, weird health problems. I complain about modern fads like Guitar Hero and R. Kelley as if I were sixty ("those damn kids---who I go to school with---and their damned dancin' an' rock music an' skirts up to 'ere"). I can't seem to get along well with people my own age, but adults love me.

You sound like my daughter. She goes on at great length about "those skanks" when she sees young women dressing as they do on the street "these days". (I have to agree - they do look like they should be walking the street, in an entirely different sense of that phrase.)....

Not uncommon on the spectrum, MissPickwickian - just be prepared to include in your complaints a certain 45-year-old man who enjoys playing WoW and GTA IV, and is about ready to pick up the controls on Halo 3 (hey, J needs someone to back him up reliably in the multiplayer online matches!)...

Lurking.....