Author Archives: uppervalleygirl

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About uppervalleygirl

Author, columnist, blogger, speaker, copy writer

The Sea Otter Cam

Otter CamAw, man, otters have it goin’ awn.

The Otter Cam has a tape rolling when the (west coast) otters are asleep, so you always win. Kudos for choice of otter music, BBC!

This in anticipation of Big Blue Live, a live sea life program from Monterey Bay, Cali at 8 pm EST Mon-Tues-Wed, and again live at 11 PM EST.  Good for the frazzled modern-tymes brain.

[ Follow my PBS twitter address for (weekly, if that) charmers like these. I’ll rarely blog them:  @annVTPBS   ]

The Jellyfish Cam

jellycamI know this is live because I just clicked on it at 7 EST and it’s BLACK (Pacific Time!). It’s rumored to be lovely. Can’t wait till sunup.

http://www.pbs.org/big-blue-live/live-cams/mba-jelly-cam/

[I’m Tweeting cool little mesmerizers like this from @annVTPBS if you want in.]

We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Badges ~ Or Do We

LSM

Little Sister of the Moon courtesy of B.S.

When parents get involved in their children’s projects, a great inequity is born. I remember my friends’ middle school-aged kids’ projects for Science Fairs. They looked, by God, these trifold standup posters explaining the experiment, as if they’d been published by Random House. The other kids’ looked like, well, coloring books. Except for the ones made by their parents.

Girl Scouting was no different. In the 70s you had the laissez-faire parents like mine, God love ‘em, then you had the competitive superparents. They were troop leaders, usually, and their daughters had 200 merit badges on their sashes. My mom was a troop leader, but not the superparenting kind; more the “Look it up” kind. We had to earn our own merit badges, meaning do the work ourselves. Imagine that! We had to actually read the instructions and carry them out. If you didn’t understand something, in your Girl Scout Handbook or math book, a parent would bark, “Look it up!” without glancing up from the stovetop, martini, or newspaper. None of this coddly, “Let’s get going on it, honey … together!” None of this everything-at-your-fingertips Internet business, no sir, not for us.

GS handbookWhat if we had to walk around today with sashes pictographically representing our accomplishments? Rich concept, that. Some people would have lots and lots of badges, some would have a few, and some would turn their nose at the “charade” even if they’d accomplished much. The highly competitive would have extra-long sashes trailing behind them like a royal brides’s train, or folded over repeatedly back and forth like ribbon candy, loaded down with those little embroidered circles of merit (crafted by … the children of the fine sweat shops of Indonesia?) The rest of us could fit our sash under a slender coat.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved earning those badges and sewing them by hand (myself! With the skills acquired in Brownies!) to my sash. I feel for the poor troop leader who ordered them, probably with 27-character alphanumeric codes they had to enter on a form and mail in (CANOE999 … FIRSTAID2704 … ETIQUETTE5328 — wait, did the Boys Scouts have Etiquette??? Certainly not HOUSEKEEPING like the early Girl Scout badge).

I could see this being of societal benefit in modern tymes. Like last spring when the months-old layer of snow melted and there was dog do all over town. It was a minefield out there. Maybe if there had been merit badges involved, people would have been more diligent about poopingscooping (gotta be a great German word for that). This got me — and the crazed nutters I call friends — thinking of incentive-based or generally perverse applications of such badges.

Proposed Merit Badges for Adults in Modern Tymes:

Recycling. Putting The Seat Down. Turning In Lost Objects. Moderation in Facebook Posting. Echolocation. Hoarding. Closet Organizing. Image Consulting. Photo Bombing. Comparative Shopping. Lawn Care. Adult Hygiene. Cell Phone Videography. Social Climbing. Commuting. Unfriending. Rabble Rousing. Lamprophony (look it up). Little Sister of the Moon (Stevie Nicks-esque Wicca skills).  Little Brother Annoying. Patent Leather Appreciation. Cyber Stalking. Fast Texting. 50 Shading. Hermitude. Internet Bullying. Cellphone Minute Conservation. Hair Extension Weaving. Sleepover Safety. Bad Boy Dating. Texting Shorthand (u 2 want 1). Throning.

GS SashA friend asks, “What about a merit badge called Olive Loaf for those of us in the “sandwich” stage, caring for both children and aging parents?” Another writes: “OMG.  I’m going to get a good picture of my sash. I GLUED the SEWING badge on the sash. I think I fibbed to ACHIEVE this number of badges … all glued on for speedy sense of ACCOMPLISHMENT and ACHIEVEMENT.

Others suggested: “How about the Aria Stark badge for when you kill an adversary?” Or “The Donald Trump badge for the girl who sells the most cookies?  The theme would be twisted of course to emphasize greed rather than ‘do-gooding’ for a cause.  The recipient would be all about the prize she wins.”

Feel free to create your own. Achieve! Good day.

Google Autofill of the Month:

When WHY DOES YOUR BLADDER is entered, Google autofills with:

hurt

have  to be full for a sonogram

drop

leak.

ann.aikens.7 on Facebook. Twitter handle: @uvgvt.

Night Blooming Cereus Tracker IV

NBC IVI think he’s ready to go…SUNDAY NIGHT. Maybe. Checking with my donor on this.

NBC 4bThere are advantages to working at a television station. One of them is we have … cameras. While I was on a biz trip, unbeknownst to me, a total god in engineering set up this little baby to monitor the NBC. It should be noted that the plant is nothing to write home about. It’s actually exceptionally ugly. That’s why there’s not more of them out there. But sometimes ugly ducklings produce raw beauty. Stay tuned.

Night Blooming Cereus Tracker II

NBC2aIt grows over night. I’m going to start calling it “he.”

He starts off nice and straight. Asparagus-like.

Next day, yuh oh…grown even more, and curling. I don’t think that’s supposed to happen.

nbc3Note he’s dangling by a thread. Whatever you do, the donor says, don’t knock it off. It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s the night cleaning guy. I need some sort of protective barrier.

Here is your promised ruler:nbc3b

He’s getting flossier.Graceful. Like an undersea plant. Go, Night Blooming Cereus! You can flower in a world gone mad.

Night Blooming Cereus Tracker

nbc 1aNever seen/heard of one? You’re in for a treat.

The NBC blooms once a year for one night only, with a blossom as big as your head. Its scent precedes it.

People have parties. They can plan them because it takes 2 weeks for the thing to flower once the bud appears.

You have to have the young plant 3-4 years before it will bloom. This little baby is right on time. It’s in my office and I was going to move it home so I could enjoy it allll niiiight, but its donor said, “No! It likes where it is.” Guess I’m pulling an all-nighter at work on that evening.

She also told me other details, but I’ll let you watch for yourself, on this here tracker. This is smaller than it appears. I’ll get a ruler for ya.nbc 1b

White Flaggin’ It on the High Seas of Life

999I knew when my credit card bill was $666 that June would be a weird one. When flooding left debris resembling an exploded Swiss Family Robinson’s house all over the state and friends e-mailed about escaped prisoners on the lam, some Vermonters wanted to hunker down with Game of Thrones indoors. But… summer. It’s short in VT. Out you go.

I went to Burlington’s Discover Jazz festival. Personal favorite: Aaron Goldberg trio. Brilliant musical wizardry (Harvard smarty pianist! New Zealander bassist! Floridian drummer! Hot Brazilian influence!). Try his The Now CD, first tasting Trocando em Miudos (initially seems like he’s tuning) and Lambada de Serpente on YouTube. Smokin’.

rabid coon datehookupcomWhen cops and sirens abound (the escapees), distraction proves key. In world gone mad, it’s time in to look after numero uno. Pop into a pond or brook and feel the love. Stagger vigilance (ticks, poison ivy, rabid coons, escapees) with laffs (a comedy at one of America’s 80 remaining the drive-in theaters?).

I had a boss once with the lethal combination of wildly vacillating mood swings and the most beautiful face money could buy. Only young employees could endure her diabolical stunts; our team of four’s outlet was, you guessed it, laffs. Email was brand new then and as I struggled with her computerized calendar I’d think, “Wow, everyone’s working really hard; it’s so quiet in here.” Stifled snickers would betray that the girls were all in fact emailing each other, not working at all. It was the right move. When in Hell, manufacture Heaven.

Some events are so terrible you cannot distract yourself. Then you can do one thing: ask for help. From friends, fam, and whomever you call God. You’ll get help. As a local spiritual expert maintains, “Prayer helps even when you don’t believe in it.” That means prayer for yourself or prayers from others (think: It’s a Wonderful Life). In one particularly bad period after 9-11, I was losing it in California. I prayed (read: pridelessly begged the universe). One friend wrote, “Do you want me and [her 4 year-old] to fly out and drive you back in a truck?” Another phoned, Do you want me and [our childhood friend, each with two kids] to just come out there and get you?” I was so galvinized with hope by these kind offers from busy helper-mothers 2,000 miles away that I was able to pull it together and move to Vermont without their (further) help. It was the right move.

titanicLittle fact for you: SOS does not actually stand for anything (those krazy Germans!). It is, however, easily remembered even when you are wigging out, and it’s the only 9-element signal in Morse code, thus instantly recognizable because no other symbol uses more than 8 elements. Number nine? Three blasts signifying the international distress call? 999 is the number for the Coast Guard? That devilish 666 reversed! There is God in asking for help. Fuzzy numerology.

New England is a tough place (weather, money, weird Puritan legacies) and we must navigate carefully. You are the captain of your ship. Hoist up you mainsail and your jib (the helper sail!), patch any holes, keep your rudder free of barnacles and giant squid, choose well when and where to drop anchor (Vermont?) and, for God’s sake, when surrounded by the enemy or your ship is going down, send out your distress signal and hoist the little white flag that says, “I. Give. Up.” Some helper-mariner will see it, cruise in, and get you the heck out of there. Let him. It’ll be the right move. Good day.

Provocative Autofill of the Month:

When “Things You’re Not Supposed To…” is entered, Google autofills with:

-Eat with braces

-Do

-Refrigerate

How to Tell Your Guests to Conserve Water

water disciplineWith wells, you never know what’ll happen. I’ve known more than one family that has had to carry buckets of water inside from a brook for various purposes, including toilet use. No fun at all, esp. in winter.

This summer, groundwater levels are not a problem. But when they are, my friend’s father’s advisory, printed and mounted at every sink, conveys the message with a distinctive and poetic economy of words.