Les Misbarak.
(Thanks to Crooks and Liars.)
25 October 2008
20 October 2008
NaBloPoMo!
The lovely Cynthia has talked me into joining up with her, and many like minded bloggers, to celebrate NaBloPoMo -- National Blog Posting Month -- by, obviously, Posting Every Day For a Month. That month being November.
So I'm getting ready for the marathon. If you join up, you pretty much get to make your own rules, Cynthia says. So you can faithfully write every day, even if it's just a little bit, OR you can write ahead on the days (such as American Thanksgiving) when you don't have a computer.
Here's my plan: I'm taking the laptop to New Mexico for Thanksgiving. So I can predict now that I will be posting ALL about the difficulties I'm having finding gluten free, dairy free enchiladas.
So I'm getting ready for the marathon. If you join up, you pretty much get to make your own rules, Cynthia says. So you can faithfully write every day, even if it's just a little bit, OR you can write ahead on the days (such as American Thanksgiving) when you don't have a computer.
Here's my plan: I'm taking the laptop to New Mexico for Thanksgiving. So I can predict now that I will be posting ALL about the difficulties I'm having finding gluten free, dairy free enchiladas.
14 October 2008
Medieval Debate Procedures
I like to blog in a timely fashion, as proof that I am Keeping Up With Stuff.
So, since the third and last presidential candidate debate is coming up soon, I'll share with you the medieval view of the proceedings, as given to us by Bayeux Rhythms:
So, since the third and last presidential candidate debate is coming up soon, I'll share with you the medieval view of the proceedings, as given to us by Bayeux Rhythms:
06 October 2008
Family Photos in the Email
I had treats in the email this morning -- my double-second-cousin Melinda sent photos that she'd gotten from her mother. Taken around 1955 (probably on Long Island), they include this picture of my great-grandmother, Berthe Eskelund Lindtveit. Things I know about her: 1) Her famous fiskeboller actually came out of a can; 2) MANY of us have "her" krumkage iron, cause she would buy them, use them, and then give them away to daughters and grand-daughters; 3) she remembered the primroses on the fjords in the spring; 4) she told my mother that she left Norway because she had "the wanderlust."
Maybe that was true, at least in part. Whenever I go to Norway, I wonder again how anybody could ever leave it. It's got to be the most gorgeous place on the planet. Also, the food is tasty (see fiskeboller and krumkake, above; also lefse, strawberry cream cake, lingonberry jam, and salmon. Lots of salmon). Also, the humans are cheerful and sane.
But time and economics doth happen to us all. Only Ireland lost a higher proportion of her people to America, over the middle of the 19th century and into the first part of the 20th. When the hard times come, you do what you have to. You remember the primroses. You get your brother the sea captain to bring more fiskeboller.
Thanks, Melinda! Nice to start the week with treats. And some excellent perspective.
03 October 2008
Palin Debate Flow Chart
Boing Boing has been kind enough to post the "Sarah Palin Debate Chart," courtesy of ph33r and loathing. Thanks!
01 October 2008
My Latest Advice on Papers
My latest advice on papers, which I am able to give you because of the one I am reading Right Now, is:
Do not, especially if you are the sort of student who has not shown up ONCE in class so far (we're now at midterms), begin your paper with a statement about how the best literature in the world has been produced by British writers, especially some from the twentieth century, though class in the last few weeks has opened your eyes to the wonders of medieval literature, because
a) It can't possibly have done that, since you weren't here, and
b) even had I not had the training I've had, I would be able to Quickly! Like a Shot! recognize this sentence (and indeed, the next four pages, as it turns out) as Blithering Meant to Take Up Space Until You Reach the Page Count.
Head. Desk.
I'm going to go eat my dinner; tomorrow I'm sure I'll be able to approach this paper calmly, pointing out simply that there is no thesis (at least not one that I've discovered yet), and that if you've only got 5 pages, you need to actually focus on an aspect of one work, in order to discuss it fully. Rather than, you know, discussing All of Medieval Literature.
And by that time I'll be able to be polite about it.
Do not, especially if you are the sort of student who has not shown up ONCE in class so far (we're now at midterms), begin your paper with a statement about how the best literature in the world has been produced by British writers, especially some from the twentieth century, though class in the last few weeks has opened your eyes to the wonders of medieval literature, because
a) It can't possibly have done that, since you weren't here, and
b) even had I not had the training I've had, I would be able to Quickly! Like a Shot! recognize this sentence (and indeed, the next four pages, as it turns out) as Blithering Meant to Take Up Space Until You Reach the Page Count.
Head. Desk.
I'm going to go eat my dinner; tomorrow I'm sure I'll be able to approach this paper calmly, pointing out simply that there is no thesis (at least not one that I've discovered yet), and that if you've only got 5 pages, you need to actually focus on an aspect of one work, in order to discuss it fully. Rather than, you know, discussing All of Medieval Literature.
And by that time I'll be able to be polite about it.
29 September 2008
Good Morning! It's Monday. Let's Do Links.
Here we are, bright, early, starting a new week. I've got papers to grade, and readings to read, but nevertheless I take time to share important news with you, oh my friends and relations.
First, courtesy of Thorn and Beth, we have Shay Black, singing that great Irish song about Barak O'Bama, the great Irishman. There are other versions of this song out there on the Net, but I'm partial to this; I used to live around the corner and down the street from the Starry Plough, where this version's been recorded, and I'm glad to see that a pub I loved so well is still strong. And that James Connolly can still be read on the wall. I see that it's now a full service restaurant, too. Hmm. It's gone upscale from the days I was hanging out there with Andrew Shulman's Deakin band. (So have I, now that I think of it. But I was young then.)
Second, the excellent Cake Wrecks is making fun of Dog Cakes. Rightly so. It's important to read Cake Wrecks everyday. Every. Day. Cause you never know what you might need to copy.
Third, I'm pleased to report that if you die in Denmark, you can get buried in a cemetery devoted to Odin and Thor. Inside the outline of a Viking ship! This cheers me no end.
Fourth, you've probably already seen this, but CollegeHumor has produced a parody Disney trailer of a Sarah Palin movie.
We now return to our regular Monday workday.
First, courtesy of Thorn and Beth, we have Shay Black, singing that great Irish song about Barak O'Bama, the great Irishman. There are other versions of this song out there on the Net, but I'm partial to this; I used to live around the corner and down the street from the Starry Plough, where this version's been recorded, and I'm glad to see that a pub I loved so well is still strong. And that James Connolly can still be read on the wall. I see that it's now a full service restaurant, too. Hmm. It's gone upscale from the days I was hanging out there with Andrew Shulman's Deakin band. (So have I, now that I think of it. But I was young then.)
Second, the excellent Cake Wrecks is making fun of Dog Cakes. Rightly so. It's important to read Cake Wrecks everyday. Every. Day. Cause you never know what you might need to copy.
Third, I'm pleased to report that if you die in Denmark, you can get buried in a cemetery devoted to Odin and Thor. Inside the outline of a Viking ship! This cheers me no end.
Fourth, you've probably already seen this, but CollegeHumor has produced a parody Disney trailer of a Sarah Palin movie.
We now return to our regular Monday workday.
24 September 2008
In Which Rhys Gets Sent to Juvey (If You Live in Edgewood and You're Missing a Fluffy Bunny Slipper, Let Me Know)
Rhys, the Cardigan Corgi, is now in his Teen Dog Days. In Rhys's case, this means that he, besides writing poetry full of teenage angst (containing lines like "the light is a symbol of my darkness") spends a lot of his time NOT following any of the commands that he previously knew very well, such as "sit," "stay," "come," "down," and "quiet" -- especially "quiet"; he's just not down with "quiet" -- and making up other things to do entirely, such as figuring out how to get out of the backyard and run up and down the street and through the backyards of the neighbors. (Next stop, I gather, is the phase wherein he stays out all night smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. If he asks you to buy some for him, just say no.)
For an animal with such short legs, he's remarkably hard to catch.
Anyway, apparently somebody on the street likes to keep her fluffy bunny slippers in her backyard. I know this because when we finally caught him the other day, he had one. So if you're missing one, let me know. It's around here someplace.
In the meantime, you'll be happy to know that I've discovered the Doggy Juvenile Detention, which starts next week. Here's the description:
Teen Intervention – Has your puppy reached those teen months where they act like they've never heard the word "sit" or "down" or "come"? Or did you adopt a slightly older puppy in an effort to avoid the 'puppy stage' and been thrown for a loop by that 'teen' attitude? Have they gone from following your every movement, to just walking away or teaching you to chase them? This course is geared towards teaching and re-teaching young dogs. We start out teaching your dog to 'Heel" (walk beside you – and at your pace), Sit/Stays, Down/Stays, and good Recall (come when called). Each week we build on what we've learned and add something new.
Yes. I'd like to re-teach my dog, please. Not to mention me myself.
And can you do something about that gawdawful poetry, too?
For an animal with such short legs, he's remarkably hard to catch.
Anyway, apparently somebody on the street likes to keep her fluffy bunny slippers in her backyard. I know this because when we finally caught him the other day, he had one. So if you're missing one, let me know. It's around here someplace.
In the meantime, you'll be happy to know that I've discovered the Doggy Juvenile Detention, which starts next week. Here's the description:
Teen Intervention – Has your puppy reached those teen months where they act like they've never heard the word "sit" or "down" or "come"? Or did you adopt a slightly older puppy in an effort to avoid the 'puppy stage' and been thrown for a loop by that 'teen' attitude? Have they gone from following your every movement, to just walking away or teaching you to chase them? This course is geared towards teaching and re-teaching young dogs. We start out teaching your dog to 'Heel" (walk beside you – and at your pace), Sit/Stays, Down/Stays, and good Recall (come when called). Each week we build on what we've learned and add something new.
Yes. I'd like to re-teach my dog, please. Not to mention me myself.
And can you do something about that gawdawful poetry, too?
16 September 2008
How to Research Your Old House, If It's the One Formerly Known as Nutwood
When we bought Nutwood, we were told that it was built in 1877; it had been moved to its current location from someplace else. That's it.
So I went first to the local library, to look at "the archives." The archives for Edgewood Borough turn out to be a manila folder full of some clippings, and some copies of "A History of Edgewood Borough," published in 1934. In all the file, there was no mention of the house at our address, or any mention of some house getting moved there. I did learn that the piece of street the house is on wasn't put in until about 1897, and before that it was a stream, making the story about the house getting moved here more plausible -- clearly, it was built before the street existed. I found some plat maps on line, and I was able to see that indeed there was no house here at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century, though it shows up later.
I went down to the Allegheny County Courthouse to research the deeds. This got me back to 1911, when the plan for the land plots (of which this is #11) was filed by George Johnston (whose name shows up in early Edgewood history). It also gave me the names of the owners of the house for several decades -- back to 1911, though the deeds didn't go back further.
I went online to do genealogical research, and found, by looking at census forms and draft cards, that the house, which had been sold to Maud Bean in 1918, had been occupied by the Beans by at least 1917. But before that no-one shows up at this address. (The Beans would eventually lose the house, in foreclosure, in 1933.)
I also found, by googling the name of the owners from the 60's through the 70's, the man who had, in 1984, restored and flipped the house. Emailed him. He and his sister, who grew up here, are going to come by some weekend soon, to tell us about the house as they knew it. She told me that the old people who lived behind them told her that the house had been originally moved from the hill above -- so it would, originally, have been on the street behind us, before this street was moved in. He told me that a history of the house had been written, by one of the founders of the Pittsburgh History and Landmarks Foundation.
I went by the Pittsburgh History and Landmarks library to see what I could find. They do not have, in the founder's collected papers, the history of the house. Darn.
But through looking at the plat maps, and working with the Edgewood histories, and doing genealogical research, I believe -- so far -- that the house was built in 1876, by Alexander Cadman -- it was next door to his dad's house (that'd be Sampson Cadman, immigrant from England), and you can see on the plat maps that at the time this house was built, Alexander owned this property, as part of the property that's now behind it. If you're following this.
Anyway. Alexander, who along with his dad was one of the founders of Edgewood, built it, when he married his first wife. She died, and he remarried, and this house got moved here. From the time it was here, it's been at least two apartments, sometimes three.
And now it's one house again.
I've got three more places I can look; Edgewood was part of Wilkinsburg when the house was built, so I'm going over to the Wilkinsburg library to look at THEIR archives -- maybe I'll have more luck. And the main Carnegie library has a Pittsburgh history collection which also I need to look at.
If all that fails, I might contact the owner of the house for whom the history was written. (Or not; he might not be into hearing from total strangers who bought a house he once owned.)
Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to prove who the builder was, and then the house can be "The Alexander Cadman House," or whatever. Till then, I now think of it as "The House Formerly Known as Nutwood."
So I went first to the local library, to look at "the archives." The archives for Edgewood Borough turn out to be a manila folder full of some clippings, and some copies of "A History of Edgewood Borough," published in 1934. In all the file, there was no mention of the house at our address, or any mention of some house getting moved there. I did learn that the piece of street the house is on wasn't put in until about 1897, and before that it was a stream, making the story about the house getting moved here more plausible -- clearly, it was built before the street existed. I found some plat maps on line, and I was able to see that indeed there was no house here at the turn of the 19th to the 20th century, though it shows up later.
I went down to the Allegheny County Courthouse to research the deeds. This got me back to 1911, when the plan for the land plots (of which this is #11) was filed by George Johnston (whose name shows up in early Edgewood history). It also gave me the names of the owners of the house for several decades -- back to 1911, though the deeds didn't go back further.
I went online to do genealogical research, and found, by looking at census forms and draft cards, that the house, which had been sold to Maud Bean in 1918, had been occupied by the Beans by at least 1917. But before that no-one shows up at this address. (The Beans would eventually lose the house, in foreclosure, in 1933.)
I also found, by googling the name of the owners from the 60's through the 70's, the man who had, in 1984, restored and flipped the house. Emailed him. He and his sister, who grew up here, are going to come by some weekend soon, to tell us about the house as they knew it. She told me that the old people who lived behind them told her that the house had been originally moved from the hill above -- so it would, originally, have been on the street behind us, before this street was moved in. He told me that a history of the house had been written, by one of the founders of the Pittsburgh History and Landmarks Foundation.
I went by the Pittsburgh History and Landmarks library to see what I could find. They do not have, in the founder's collected papers, the history of the house. Darn.
But through looking at the plat maps, and working with the Edgewood histories, and doing genealogical research, I believe -- so far -- that the house was built in 1876, by Alexander Cadman -- it was next door to his dad's house (that'd be Sampson Cadman, immigrant from England), and you can see on the plat maps that at the time this house was built, Alexander owned this property, as part of the property that's now behind it. If you're following this.
Anyway. Alexander, who along with his dad was one of the founders of Edgewood, built it, when he married his first wife. She died, and he remarried, and this house got moved here. From the time it was here, it's been at least two apartments, sometimes three.
And now it's one house again.
I've got three more places I can look; Edgewood was part of Wilkinsburg when the house was built, so I'm going over to the Wilkinsburg library to look at THEIR archives -- maybe I'll have more luck. And the main Carnegie library has a Pittsburgh history collection which also I need to look at.
If all that fails, I might contact the owner of the house for whom the history was written. (Or not; he might not be into hearing from total strangers who bought a house he once owned.)
Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to prove who the builder was, and then the house can be "The Alexander Cadman House," or whatever. Till then, I now think of it as "The House Formerly Known as Nutwood."
15 September 2008
Oh, Naughty Site Meter. Naughty, Indeed.
So all of you using Site Meter know this, but for the rest of you:
Site Meter, which for many years has provided many of us with a service allowing us to see how many hits our website has, from whence they come, and which of our links are clicked on, had a Cunning Plan to update itself, and make its services Even Better.
So this involved Site Meter being down over the weekend, which it mostly was, after which we would all be allowed to move on over to the new platform.
Which some of us did.
And then it turned out the new service sucked, AND that our old statistics -- which they had PROMISED would be moved on over with us -- didn't show up. Or, at least, for me they didn't show up.
So they took the new platform on down and said sorry:
Last night I could get on to the old site, with my old statistics. So that was fine.
This morning, not only can I not get to my old statistics, I can't even get to the blog, except by switching browsers, cause Site Meter has disappeared from my other browser, taking its version of the blog with it.
So now I wait, whilst the technogeeks slug it out.
Site Meter asked us if we wanted to be part of the Beta testing, now that things didn't work.
Right. Bite me.
What I want to know is, am I still paying for the new service? Or even the old?
Site Meter, which for many years has provided many of us with a service allowing us to see how many hits our website has, from whence they come, and which of our links are clicked on, had a Cunning Plan to update itself, and make its services Even Better.
So this involved Site Meter being down over the weekend, which it mostly was, after which we would all be allowed to move on over to the new platform.
Which some of us did.
And then it turned out the new service sucked, AND that our old statistics -- which they had PROMISED would be moved on over with us -- didn't show up. Or, at least, for me they didn't show up.
So they took the new platform on down and said sorry:
Dear Valued SiteMeter Customers,
As you’re no doubt aware by now, we’ve chosen to roll back our website to the previous “classic” version.
Based on some performance issues we were experiencing along with feedback from the community it appears we have pushed our new site live prematurely.
Our intention is and has always been to offer you, our customer’s better tools and more accurate data. Obviously we fell short of this. The first thing we need to do, moving forward, is to roll out new product releases in parallel to our current platform. This will give everyone a chance to try out, evaluate, and comment on our new concepts.
Last night I could get on to the old site, with my old statistics. So that was fine.
This morning, not only can I not get to my old statistics, I can't even get to the blog, except by switching browsers, cause Site Meter has disappeared from my other browser, taking its version of the blog with it.
So now I wait, whilst the technogeeks slug it out.
Site Meter asked us if we wanted to be part of the Beta testing, now that things didn't work.
Right. Bite me.
What I want to know is, am I still paying for the new service? Or even the old?
12 September 2008
By the Way: Tidings of Past Events
The Geoffrey Chaucer blog is not dead, though Jeff doesn't post anymore much, on account of it got taken over by Thomas Favent (who was blogging about going to "Blazinge Fellow" recently).
Today, though, Henry "S-Chain" Bolingbroke has written the blog -- he's that guy who isn't king, and couldn't be, could he, cause it would be treason for him to think about usurping power.....
Though of course, if he won, eventually, after several tries, then he would be Henry IV, wouldn't he? And that would make everything ok.
Today, though, Henry "S-Chain" Bolingbroke has written the blog -- he's that guy who isn't king, and couldn't be, could he, cause it would be treason for him to think about usurping power.....
Though of course, if he won, eventually, after several tries, then he would be Henry IV, wouldn't he? And that would make everything ok.
11 September 2008
Dealing with Mice, According to Brannens
I've got all this stuff I need to blog about The House Formerly Known as Nutwood, which I now refer to as The Alexander W. Cadman House -- and will keep that up unless I get more history out of the library and become conviced he didn't build it* BUT
Carl Brannen, over at Mass, has just posted about his problems with mice, over at his ethanol plant, and how he deals with them. And I don't think you should miss "Quantum Field Mouse Cube Theory."**
*******************************************************
*One of the posts coming soon will be ALL about "Researching Your Old House, If It's The One Formerly Known as Nutwood."
**I have to admit that I don't always read Carl's posts, even though I love him very much and like to hear what he has to say, because mostly the posts are written in a language I do not understand, which looks like this:
Carl Brannen, over at Mass, has just posted about his problems with mice, over at his ethanol plant, and how he deals with them. And I don't think you should miss "Quantum Field Mouse Cube Theory."**
*******************************************************
*One of the posts coming soon will be ALL about "Researching Your Old House, If It's The One Formerly Known as Nutwood."
**I have to admit that I don't always read Carl's posts, even though I love him very much and like to hear what he has to say, because mostly the posts are written in a language I do not understand, which looks like this:
"Let 
Let 
I’m guessing that the reader will find the proof immediately. If not, ask in the comments and I’ll give the short proof."
I do understand the mice, however.
04 August 2008
Update on Nutwood
We've about come to the end of what we can do for Nutwood this year; we wanted to get the house painted, but the more important jobs took up a big ol' bunch of money. As of now, though, the gas leaks have been fixed; the exposed hot wires have been fixed, and the electrical outlets made non-lethal (next year, we plan to replace all the knob-and-tube wiring, which still takes up half the house); and the concrete steps up to the house in the front have been repaired.
And the contractor's been so busy! Here, for instance, you see an overhang which was thoroughly rotted out, on account of the unmaintained gutter. It was in such bad shape that it had plants growing out of it. And look! All fixed.
Here you see a corner of the house which does NOT have, any longer, a giant vine, growing up the house, engulfing the live electrical wires, pulling off the gutter, and climbing on up the roof, toward my room, where it planned to eat me. It was scary.
Now, however, this is a boring corner. I give thanks.
Let's go to the basement now. When we first saw the house, there was a lake here. Now things are pretty dry. Why? Ah, remember the first picture of the formerly rotten eave and gutter? This is the basement corner underneath.
An even bigger lake was in this corner, and this is drying up, too. This is the corner underneath the completely plugged up gutter and storm drain, from which the contractor pulled 35 pounds of compacted debris. This pretty much explained why they weren't working.
All of the basement window frames were rotten. I like to keep things as close to their original conception as possible, but in this case, we went with the contractor's suggestion of glass blocks. They're safer than the panes, they let in more light, and the installed vents give the basement more air circulation (see drying lakes above).
And my favorite piece of the basement so far: when we first saw the house, this alcove (originally the steps from the basement to the outside) was blocked up with a rotten piece of plywood, covering up a load of junk, including a boiler. When the contractor pulled the junk out, the lake of water got larger -- the junk was acting as a dam. We're waiting to see whether the alcove dries out now that the surface water is being directed away from the house, or whether there's water seeping in from underground.
This is the same corner, from outside. The white patch visible right above the stone foundation, by the new fence (also installed by the contractor, since we have dogs), is the replacement wood for the rotten STRUCTURAL BEAM! Structural beam! What were people thinking. And why was it rotten? Oh, you know. The plugged up gutter and storm drain. Moral of this story: People. Get the gutters cleaned out. Really. They're not decorative.
We also had to pay for things that the borough required, such as porch railings. From Construction Junction we got old spindles (saving hundreds of dollars), and the contractor built them into a wonderful railing, with a cedar top and some copper newel post finials I got on eBay -- I chose simple spherical ones, since the lines of the house are so simple.
And here we are, present day Nutwood. We did so want to paint it this fall, so as to cheer up the neighborhood, but as I say, we think not. There was all that rotten siding to fix. We're planning to paint the mint green a sage green, the pink a straw, and the purple brown -- natural colors, more fitting the simplicity of the house.
Coming soon: pictures of the inside. The circus themed dining room is still as it was. But at least it won't be falling into the basement any time soon.
Oh, and by the way, if you're in Pittsburgh and you need a general contractor, here's the guy we LOVE.
And the contractor's been so busy! Here, for instance, you see an overhang which was thoroughly rotted out, on account of the unmaintained gutter. It was in such bad shape that it had plants growing out of it. And look! All fixed.
Here you see a corner of the house which does NOT have, any longer, a giant vine, growing up the house, engulfing the live electrical wires, pulling off the gutter, and climbing on up the roof, toward my room, where it planned to eat me. It was scary.
Now, however, this is a boring corner. I give thanks.
Let's go to the basement now. When we first saw the house, there was a lake here. Now things are pretty dry. Why? Ah, remember the first picture of the formerly rotten eave and gutter? This is the basement corner underneath.
An even bigger lake was in this corner, and this is drying up, too. This is the corner underneath the completely plugged up gutter and storm drain, from which the contractor pulled 35 pounds of compacted debris. This pretty much explained why they weren't working.
All of the basement window frames were rotten. I like to keep things as close to their original conception as possible, but in this case, we went with the contractor's suggestion of glass blocks. They're safer than the panes, they let in more light, and the installed vents give the basement more air circulation (see drying lakes above).
And my favorite piece of the basement so far: when we first saw the house, this alcove (originally the steps from the basement to the outside) was blocked up with a rotten piece of plywood, covering up a load of junk, including a boiler. When the contractor pulled the junk out, the lake of water got larger -- the junk was acting as a dam. We're waiting to see whether the alcove dries out now that the surface water is being directed away from the house, or whether there's water seeping in from underground.
This is the same corner, from outside. The white patch visible right above the stone foundation, by the new fence (also installed by the contractor, since we have dogs), is the replacement wood for the rotten STRUCTURAL BEAM! Structural beam! What were people thinking. And why was it rotten? Oh, you know. The plugged up gutter and storm drain. Moral of this story: People. Get the gutters cleaned out. Really. They're not decorative.
We also had to pay for things that the borough required, such as porch railings. From Construction Junction we got old spindles (saving hundreds of dollars), and the contractor built them into a wonderful railing, with a cedar top and some copper newel post finials I got on eBay -- I chose simple spherical ones, since the lines of the house are so simple.
And here we are, present day Nutwood. We did so want to paint it this fall, so as to cheer up the neighborhood, but as I say, we think not. There was all that rotten siding to fix. We're planning to paint the mint green a sage green, the pink a straw, and the purple brown -- natural colors, more fitting the simplicity of the house.
Coming soon: pictures of the inside. The circus themed dining room is still as it was. But at least it won't be falling into the basement any time soon.
Oh, and by the way, if you're in Pittsburgh and you need a general contractor, here's the guy we LOVE.
08 July 2008
In Which We Discuss the Gawain Tour
I'm in Leeds at the moment. It's wet. It's very wet. Actually, I tell a lie, it's sorta wet interspersed with damp. Let's be fair.
But it's England nonetheless, and the dining room still has stewed tea, which makes me happy, and they give me soy milk for it and make gluten free toast, cause they are Excellent Stewards over in the dining room, and I give my paper today and already had my business dinner and made Big Decisions*, and things are going pretty well.
I didn't have the time or the money to stop in London and see friends (for which I apologize, but it's been that sort of year), so I'm just flying in and out of Leeds and only staying for the conference, BUT I did go, on the first day, on The Tour of Gawain Country.
The tour was based on the work of Ralph Elliot, who's written on the landscape he believes was in the Pearl poet's head for the setting of "Gawain and the Green Knight."** And I teach the poem often, and indeed am teaching it in both the fall and the spring semesters this year, so that's all legitimate and stuff.
But really, I wanted a chance to walk around in beautiful country and get some exercise and be amused by being a medievalist. Cause what the hell, if you're not amused by being a medievalist, you're in the wrong line of work.
And it was a tour, and a mighty tour.
I came back exhausted and wet and muddy, from tramping over roots and wet mossy rocks in the high forest, and clambering up and down wet mossy rocks into a crevice in an old crag. And! At one point we had to walk over slippery rocks and a fallen tree branch, to pass safely over a giant mud hole!
This was all excellent. It was just like being Indiana Jones's dad! Ah, the life of the Adventurous Medievalist.
The bus load of medievalists acquitted ourselves well. Nobody fell down, nobody got lost in the mudhole, nobody required assistance.
And the packed lunches were very nice.
***************************************
*Actually this consisted of the Big Boss saying, we want to put this piece of your work in this other volume, ok? and me saying, sure, why not.
**OMG! I was looking for useable links to the Gawain poem, and I found a Gawain and the Green Knight Paper Doll Set! I kid you not! Too bad they only show one side of the shield, so you can't see the face of Mary.
But it's England nonetheless, and the dining room still has stewed tea, which makes me happy, and they give me soy milk for it and make gluten free toast, cause they are Excellent Stewards over in the dining room, and I give my paper today and already had my business dinner and made Big Decisions*, and things are going pretty well.
I didn't have the time or the money to stop in London and see friends (for which I apologize, but it's been that sort of year), so I'm just flying in and out of Leeds and only staying for the conference, BUT I did go, on the first day, on The Tour of Gawain Country.
The tour was based on the work of Ralph Elliot, who's written on the landscape he believes was in the Pearl poet's head for the setting of "Gawain and the Green Knight."** And I teach the poem often, and indeed am teaching it in both the fall and the spring semesters this year, so that's all legitimate and stuff.
But really, I wanted a chance to walk around in beautiful country and get some exercise and be amused by being a medievalist. Cause what the hell, if you're not amused by being a medievalist, you're in the wrong line of work.
And it was a tour, and a mighty tour.
I came back exhausted and wet and muddy, from tramping over roots and wet mossy rocks in the high forest, and clambering up and down wet mossy rocks into a crevice in an old crag. And! At one point we had to walk over slippery rocks and a fallen tree branch, to pass safely over a giant mud hole!
This was all excellent. It was just like being Indiana Jones's dad! Ah, the life of the Adventurous Medievalist.
The bus load of medievalists acquitted ourselves well. Nobody fell down, nobody got lost in the mudhole, nobody required assistance.
And the packed lunches were very nice.
***************************************
*Actually this consisted of the Big Boss saying, we want to put this piece of your work in this other volume, ok? and me saying, sure, why not.
**OMG! I was looking for useable links to the Gawain poem, and I found a Gawain and the Green Knight Paper Doll Set! I kid you not! Too bad they only show one side of the shield, so you can't see the face of Mary.
01 July 2008
Boxed In
We're now living in Nutwood -- the dogs adore it; the cats are getting used to it.
We're living with contractors! They leave their stuff here overnight. That's how we know.
The electricians and the plumber worked on their jobs before we moved in. But Kevin, the contractor, will be here for Weeks. Weeks and Weeks.
He's putting in a fence, so that the dogs can be let out into the backyard without leashes. And he got the rest of the vine off the power lines and the gutter pipe, and cleared out the gutter on that corner of the house. During the daily deluge yesterday I heard the rain running through the downspout. Yes. Good.
And he discovered this morning, after digging up the non-functioning storm drain, that it's clogged with long composted leaves. The gutter and downspout above it are also clogged. And this explains all the water in the basement. I laughed and laughed. It's so simple, really.
And inside the house, we're living still out of boxes; the kitchen has been made usable, but since most of our stuff doesn't fit (it's a kitchen invented by people who lived off take-out, I think), it's still in boxes and we're deciding what to use this year before we can get the kitchen redone. The child's bedroom is done, so he's happy. Our bedroom is pretty much done, though there's bath salts all over it cause there's no place as yet to put them, in the bathroom, which was invented by people who needed neither bathroom storage (there's not even a medicine cabinet) nor towel racks.
This last one really gave me pause. How can you not need towel racks? (And don't explain to me, in the comment section, that hooks on the walls and doors would work. Yes, they would. I f they were there. They're not.)
Every day that goes by, we discover yet another unfathomable decision made by the previous owner. Want a heating vent where the structural beam is? Cut it in pieces! Need to get some of the water out of the basement so you can sell the house? Put in a French drain, instead of cleaning the gutters! Tired of painting the guest bathroom? Cover the untreated walls in poufs of lace!
This goes on and on.
But the computer's connected (hi! did you miss me?) and the kitchen's functional, and the tv's are working, and so are the cd players, and all the boxes of books are unpacked in the library.
All the books. In the library.
Life is good. And the house is wonderful.
We're living with contractors! They leave their stuff here overnight. That's how we know.
The electricians and the plumber worked on their jobs before we moved in. But Kevin, the contractor, will be here for Weeks. Weeks and Weeks.
He's putting in a fence, so that the dogs can be let out into the backyard without leashes. And he got the rest of the vine off the power lines and the gutter pipe, and cleared out the gutter on that corner of the house. During the daily deluge yesterday I heard the rain running through the downspout. Yes. Good.
And he discovered this morning, after digging up the non-functioning storm drain, that it's clogged with long composted leaves. The gutter and downspout above it are also clogged. And this explains all the water in the basement. I laughed and laughed. It's so simple, really.
And inside the house, we're living still out of boxes; the kitchen has been made usable, but since most of our stuff doesn't fit (it's a kitchen invented by people who lived off take-out, I think), it's still in boxes and we're deciding what to use this year before we can get the kitchen redone. The child's bedroom is done, so he's happy. Our bedroom is pretty much done, though there's bath salts all over it cause there's no place as yet to put them, in the bathroom, which was invented by people who needed neither bathroom storage (there's not even a medicine cabinet) nor towel racks.
This last one really gave me pause. How can you not need towel racks? (And don't explain to me, in the comment section, that hooks on the walls and doors would work. Yes, they would. I f they were there. They're not.)
Every day that goes by, we discover yet another unfathomable decision made by the previous owner. Want a heating vent where the structural beam is? Cut it in pieces! Need to get some of the water out of the basement so you can sell the house? Put in a French drain, instead of cleaning the gutters! Tired of painting the guest bathroom? Cover the untreated walls in poufs of lace!
This goes on and on.
But the computer's connected (hi! did you miss me?) and the kitchen's functional, and the tv's are working, and so are the cd players, and all the boxes of books are unpacked in the library.
All the books. In the library.
Life is good. And the house is wonderful.
22 June 2008
We're in the Nuthouse
Finally, we closed on Nutwood. We have the keys. It's ours. (Yes, I know, it's the bank's, but we've got the use of it, and we get to make the decisions about what to do to it.)
I'll post pictures later; for now, here's what we've done:
1) cut down the vines that grew over the handrail to the front stairs, making it unuseable.
2) sanded and painted the iron handrails to the same front stairs.
3) installed solar lights next to the front stairs. Yay! They're now useable.
4) scraped off flaking painting inside the glass on the outside front doors.
5) cleaned the kitchen -- this includes the refrigerator.*
6) torn down the bizarre green fabric balloon gathered over the downstairs powder room ceiling.
7) put in light bulbs that actually give out light, in the said bathroom, the den, the kitchen, and the porch.
8) taken down the glass fixture on the porch light
9) BEST OF ALL! cut at the root the Leviathan Vine growing up the corner of the house, that's pulling down electrical wires and the gutter, and cut a lot of it off the nearby trellis.
Thank you. Thank you. Tomorrow, the electricians and the locksmiths.
***************************************************
*I'd ask you to explain to me how dead flies got inside a working refrigerator, but I don't want to know.
I'll post pictures later; for now, here's what we've done:
1) cut down the vines that grew over the handrail to the front stairs, making it unuseable.
2) sanded and painted the iron handrails to the same front stairs.
3) installed solar lights next to the front stairs. Yay! They're now useable.
4) scraped off flaking painting inside the glass on the outside front doors.
5) cleaned the kitchen -- this includes the refrigerator.*
6) torn down the bizarre green fabric balloon gathered over the downstairs powder room ceiling.
7) put in light bulbs that actually give out light, in the said bathroom, the den, the kitchen, and the porch.
8) taken down the glass fixture on the porch light
9) BEST OF ALL! cut at the root the Leviathan Vine growing up the corner of the house, that's pulling down electrical wires and the gutter, and cut a lot of it off the nearby trellis.
Thank you. Thank you. Tomorrow, the electricians and the locksmiths.
***************************************************
*I'd ask you to explain to me how dead flies got inside a working refrigerator, but I don't want to know.
15 June 2008
Keep Breathing (It's the Most Important Part)
Last fall I had a little surprise, in the form of getting asthma. Odd that I hadn't expected it at all; I've had allergies all my life -- to various pollens and plants and cats, when I was young. Then, when I was studying for my doctoral orals -- I gather it was a Stressful Time -- I went to the Dordogne in the middle of summer and the beautiful French countryside put me into a 24/7 allergy fit from which I never really recovered. Went back home and continued to sneeze all year.
Then when I moved to Pittsburgh, and was staying my first summer in an attic apartment without air conditioning, some friends lent me a window unit that had been in their basement, and as soon as I put it in the window and turned it on, my face swelled up. Mold. Can't take that, either.
Oh, and there were foods I couldn't eat -- mostly tropical fruits -- avocados, mangoes, papayas, blah blah blah.
But I took drugs - it's Zyrtec these days, for which I am very grateful, and I kept my cats, and things were fine.
And then last fall I realized I was wheezing. And my chest got tight sometimes. And the doctor told me it was asthma. I got an inhaler, and I worked on my breathing meditation.
But a few weeks ago I was at a medieval conference, and I was using the inhaler all day long. And I came home and I had birthday cupcakes, and I was using the inhaler all day long. And I hit the wall, and I finally did something I'd been thinking about for 20 years: I tried the Elimination Diet.
And. I can't eat wheat, and I can't eat milk, and I can't eat safflower oil. And the first day of the Elimination Diet, I cut the use of the inhaler to a fifth of what it had been. And now I go days without using it.
And I want to tell you, the fact that I can't eat any of the foods which were my favorites (the cheese! the cake! the ice cream!) is fine by me, cause boy, do I like breathing.
I'm breathing better than I have in a long time. I may well have been breathing this well as a child, but if so, I don't remember it. I love it.
I have been for decades an excellent baker. And now I'm going to learn how to bake differently. I know it can be done, because Pittsburgh is lucky enough to have Gluuteny, at which one can buy milk-free and wheat-free treats* which are VERY good. So if they can do it, I can do it.
And soy milk in the Yorkshire Gold tea is just fine.
I've been remembering a song we used to sing a lot in the early days in Reclaiming -- keep breathing, it's the most important part; you kick, and then you glide; you kick, and then you glide; keep breathing, it's the most important part. It's all in the rhythm, it's all in the rhythm, it's all in the rhythm of your heart.**
I'm still working on the breathing meditations, too.
***********************
*They're gluten-free, really, but I only care about the wheat; it's not the gluten itself I'm having trouble with, I gather, since oatmeal and barley don't cause me to have trouble breathing.
**Somebody tell me in the comments, please, who wrote it; I can't find a copy as I write this.
Then when I moved to Pittsburgh, and was staying my first summer in an attic apartment without air conditioning, some friends lent me a window unit that had been in their basement, and as soon as I put it in the window and turned it on, my face swelled up. Mold. Can't take that, either.
Oh, and there were foods I couldn't eat -- mostly tropical fruits -- avocados, mangoes, papayas, blah blah blah.
But I took drugs - it's Zyrtec these days, for which I am very grateful, and I kept my cats, and things were fine.
And then last fall I realized I was wheezing. And my chest got tight sometimes. And the doctor told me it was asthma. I got an inhaler, and I worked on my breathing meditation.
But a few weeks ago I was at a medieval conference, and I was using the inhaler all day long. And I came home and I had birthday cupcakes, and I was using the inhaler all day long. And I hit the wall, and I finally did something I'd been thinking about for 20 years: I tried the Elimination Diet.
And. I can't eat wheat, and I can't eat milk, and I can't eat safflower oil. And the first day of the Elimination Diet, I cut the use of the inhaler to a fifth of what it had been. And now I go days without using it.
And I want to tell you, the fact that I can't eat any of the foods which were my favorites (the cheese! the cake! the ice cream!) is fine by me, cause boy, do I like breathing.
I'm breathing better than I have in a long time. I may well have been breathing this well as a child, but if so, I don't remember it. I love it.
I have been for decades an excellent baker. And now I'm going to learn how to bake differently. I know it can be done, because Pittsburgh is lucky enough to have Gluuteny, at which one can buy milk-free and wheat-free treats* which are VERY good. So if they can do it, I can do it.
And soy milk in the Yorkshire Gold tea is just fine.
I've been remembering a song we used to sing a lot in the early days in Reclaiming -- keep breathing, it's the most important part; you kick, and then you glide; you kick, and then you glide; keep breathing, it's the most important part. It's all in the rhythm, it's all in the rhythm, it's all in the rhythm of your heart.**
I'm still working on the breathing meditations, too.
***********************
*They're gluten-free, really, but I only care about the wheat; it's not the gluten itself I'm having trouble with, I gather, since oatmeal and barley don't cause me to have trouble breathing.
**Somebody tell me in the comments, please, who wrote it; I can't find a copy as I write this.
06 June 2008
My Little Personal Concern for the Transit of Saturn Saturn-square-time
To my great and utter glee, somebody has surfed on in using the Google translation function in German, hitting my post "Saturn Square Saturn," which is THE MAJOR PAGE OF THIS BLOG, I kid you not, according to my stats, which is pitiful, cause really I don't know a damn thing about astrology, and I was just blithering.
But too late! Ha ha! You surfed in, and this is what you found, oh my excellent European reader, if you take the German you were given and run it back through the Google translation function, which is one of my Favorite Idiotic Things in the Entire World:
One of the things happening in recent years (see previous articles on Dark moon and full moon drama drama and oh, probably mid-week for no reason, drama, I can not remember the details at the moment) my little personal concern for the transit by Saturn Saturn-square-time (originally Saturn in Scorpio). I am because of my second Saturn return in a few years, and my first Saturn return involved Getting Sober. I am glad I am grateful for each day it is very helpful, what ever happened to me, but I would not characterize it as a treat. No, it was hard. And in general, I experience Saturn energy as pretty damn close. So my thinking is perhaps in these days, instead of being terribly surprised by my inner reality in a few years, I can siphon out that some of the energy now work through as much stuff as I possibly can. This makes sense, is not it? I was not quite bonkers when I thought this. Nah. Hence the dark lunar year of work, so the gloss bombs and the new worship Freyja, so daily and constant spiritual practices, the cleaning and my clothes always clear.
Thank you. This means a lot to me. I was not quite bonkers when I thought this. Nah.
(What the HELL, though, is a "gloss bomb"? I gather this explains why, every time I taught the witches in Germany, we could NOT find any glitter.....)
But too late! Ha ha! You surfed in, and this is what you found, oh my excellent European reader, if you take the German you were given and run it back through the Google translation function, which is one of my Favorite Idiotic Things in the Entire World:
One of the things happening in recent years (see previous articles on Dark moon and full moon drama drama and oh, probably mid-week for no reason, drama, I can not remember the details at the moment) my little personal concern for the transit by Saturn Saturn-square-time (originally Saturn in Scorpio). I am because of my second Saturn return in a few years, and my first Saturn return involved Getting Sober. I am glad I am grateful for each day it is very helpful, what ever happened to me, but I would not characterize it as a treat. No, it was hard. And in general, I experience Saturn energy as pretty damn close. So my thinking is perhaps in these days, instead of being terribly surprised by my inner reality in a few years, I can siphon out that some of the energy now work through as much stuff as I possibly can. This makes sense, is not it? I was not quite bonkers when I thought this. Nah. Hence the dark lunar year of work, so the gloss bombs and the new worship Freyja, so daily and constant spiritual practices, the cleaning and my clothes always clear.
Thank you. This means a lot to me. I was not quite bonkers when I thought this. Nah.
(What the HELL, though, is a "gloss bomb"? I gather this explains why, every time I taught the witches in Germany, we could NOT find any glitter.....)
04 June 2008
Moving to the Nuthouse
So, further busyness has been going on -- we're moving into a lovely 1877 house, called "Nutwood," in about three weeks. Negotiations were...well...well, they were harrying. Though the house has been lived in, it's not in such a condition that the borough will just hand out an occupancy permit. No. Not until the exposed hot wires are taken care of. Oh, and the gas leaks. Oh, and the thorns enclosing the rail on the steps in the front. Oh, and the storm drain.The rotten wood siding and sills we're just taking care of for the hell of it. We're fancy-free, devil-may-care, that way. Here. Have some more money. It's worth it.
And really, it is (despite our occasional viewings of "The Money Pit" and "Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House," to keep our spirits up). It's SOOOOO BIIIIIIG. It's got four bedrooms, three living room/dens, two and a half bathrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, a breakfast nook, and, in case we get bored, an attic which could be remodeled and made into an Excellent Ritual Room.
Some things -- the safety issues and the house not falling down issues and the San Franciscan Victorian Paint Jobby Which Looks Really Odd on a Pittsburgh Farmhouse -- need to get done immediately.
Other things, such as the Colorful Decoration of the Dining Room, can wait:
So that we can have people over to discuss things over dinner. By candlelight. With our eyes closed.
But it has detail!
It has gorgeous lighting!
It has a cathedral window and a skylight in the breakfast nook!
We LOVE it!
Now I'm going to join up with the House Restoration Bloggers, so that I can have Knowledgeable Company. We need to go pick out replacement doorknobs and a transom.
08 April 2008
Selling on the Moon (A Rant)
I've had an account on eBay for seven years now, as of last month. For most of those years, I was buying; then, two years ago -- again, as of last month -- I started selling some of my Beloved Crap. Much of which I had bought earlier on ebay. The Alice Starmore stuff especially.
And it was good. I loved buying things on eBay. It was a very good place to find unusual things. I had searches saved for things that I wanted and couldn't possibly find anywhere, and sometimes they appeared and I bought them. My favorite of these was an Eva Rosenstand cross stitch kit of some little foxes ripping apart a pigeon, part of a pair of bloody-minded pictures of little fox cubs learning to tear up dinner. I owned one; the other had been discontinued for YEARS. Should have bought it when I was a graduate student and loved it and couldn't afford it. Should have realized it wouldn't last in the catalog, cause not so many people would be amused by it. Anyway. I had a search on for Eva Rosenstand kits, and by god, that kit came up, being sold by somebody in England. And I put an REALLY high proxy bid on it. REALLY high. And I got it, for a fraction of what I would have been willing to pay, though a startling amount anyway.
Yep. eBay was good for buying.
Also, selling. I never sold large amounts. I had things I didn't need anymore, and I wanted more space and more money, and I sold stuff off on eBay. There was a rare Alice Starmore knitting booklet for which I had paid $400 or so on eBay a few years before -- I got $900 when I resold it on eBay.
Ah, the days.
Now to to the present: eBay has been changing its rules lately. There's a lot of flurry about this on the discussion boards over there. Basically, the changes I'm interested in are these:
1) eBay has raised the fees for selling -- they cut the listing fees, but take a higher percentage of the final take. This doesn't really concern me, because I only sell on eBay as a hobby, so I can lose the money. Others are more deeply affected.
2) As of May 1, sellers will no longer be able to leave negative feedback for their buyers. I don't like this much, because I like to look at the bidders when I can, and remove those who have too many neg's, or a history of bid retractions, but really, usually online sellers don't know the history of their buyers, so what the hell, I can live with this.
3) They've instituted a thing called "Detailed Seller Ratings," a system of 1-5 star ratings that buyers add, besides the usual negative, neutral, or positive rating. And this is why I'm leaving eBay.
eBay tells the buyers that 4 stars are good. But 4 stars get you in trouble, as a seller. You need 5 stars, or you fall down the newly instituted curve, and don't show up as high in the searches. In what I sell, this doesn't matter, cause I sell mostly hard to find widgets. But it also affects your rating.
And here's what's happened to me so far: I have JUST now got enough ratings to have my Detailed Seller Rating displayed. And damned if I don't have less than 5-star ratings.
Now, understand this. I have 100% positive feedback. I send emails immediately to my buyers, giving them the invoice, and telling them my policies. I let them know when I receive their payments. I let them know when I ship their widgets. Indeed, I ship ASAP as soon as I receive payment, usually the very next business day (eBay recommends within 3 days). I don't charge for handling -- I charge only the postage it costs me. Sometimes I up the service at my own expense. I don't charge for insurance; I pay for it myself.
And couple of people -- no way to know who -- have rated me a 4 in shipping costs.
Oh really. Perhaps I should have driven over in my car and delivered your widget by hand. For free.
eBay has announced that it's moving out of the auction format and into a retail format. And they've been pushing out the small sellers for a while. There are a host of small sellers (and some of the big ones, too) who are leaving eBay and going to other online sites. In the forums, you can't say the names of these places, cause eBay will (naturally) take down the post. They're referred to as "the river," or "the moon." (There's one that is "Scotland," but I haven't figured it out yet. Anybody who knows, tell me, willya?)
I'll be one of them -- I'm finishing off selling my hard to find widgets that sometimes go for lots of cash, and opening up an online store over on the moon. I'll let you know where it is. Some dolls! Some hard to find embroidery books! Some really darling widgets!
I'm keeping my eBay account just in case I need to use it. And I'm going to continue to lurk on the discussion boards, to see how things turn out after the May changes in feedback. And I'm grateful to eBay for the lovely times I had buying and selling interesting and sometimes expensive crap. But I'm going to the moon, Alice.
And it was good. I loved buying things on eBay. It was a very good place to find unusual things. I had searches saved for things that I wanted and couldn't possibly find anywhere, and sometimes they appeared and I bought them. My favorite of these was an Eva Rosenstand cross stitch kit of some little foxes ripping apart a pigeon, part of a pair of bloody-minded pictures of little fox cubs learning to tear up dinner. I owned one; the other had been discontinued for YEARS. Should have bought it when I was a graduate student and loved it and couldn't afford it. Should have realized it wouldn't last in the catalog, cause not so many people would be amused by it. Anyway. I had a search on for Eva Rosenstand kits, and by god, that kit came up, being sold by somebody in England. And I put an REALLY high proxy bid on it. REALLY high. And I got it, for a fraction of what I would have been willing to pay, though a startling amount anyway.
Yep. eBay was good for buying.
Also, selling. I never sold large amounts. I had things I didn't need anymore, and I wanted more space and more money, and I sold stuff off on eBay. There was a rare Alice Starmore knitting booklet for which I had paid $400 or so on eBay a few years before -- I got $900 when I resold it on eBay.
Ah, the days.
Now to to the present: eBay has been changing its rules lately. There's a lot of flurry about this on the discussion boards over there. Basically, the changes I'm interested in are these:
1) eBay has raised the fees for selling -- they cut the listing fees, but take a higher percentage of the final take. This doesn't really concern me, because I only sell on eBay as a hobby, so I can lose the money. Others are more deeply affected.
2) As of May 1, sellers will no longer be able to leave negative feedback for their buyers. I don't like this much, because I like to look at the bidders when I can, and remove those who have too many neg's, or a history of bid retractions, but really, usually online sellers don't know the history of their buyers, so what the hell, I can live with this.
3) They've instituted a thing called "Detailed Seller Ratings," a system of 1-5 star ratings that buyers add, besides the usual negative, neutral, or positive rating. And this is why I'm leaving eBay.
eBay tells the buyers that 4 stars are good. But 4 stars get you in trouble, as a seller. You need 5 stars, or you fall down the newly instituted curve, and don't show up as high in the searches. In what I sell, this doesn't matter, cause I sell mostly hard to find widgets. But it also affects your rating.
And here's what's happened to me so far: I have JUST now got enough ratings to have my Detailed Seller Rating displayed. And damned if I don't have less than 5-star ratings.
Now, understand this. I have 100% positive feedback. I send emails immediately to my buyers, giving them the invoice, and telling them my policies. I let them know when I receive their payments. I let them know when I ship their widgets. Indeed, I ship ASAP as soon as I receive payment, usually the very next business day (eBay recommends within 3 days). I don't charge for handling -- I charge only the postage it costs me. Sometimes I up the service at my own expense. I don't charge for insurance; I pay for it myself.
And couple of people -- no way to know who -- have rated me a 4 in shipping costs.
Oh really. Perhaps I should have driven over in my car and delivered your widget by hand. For free.
eBay has announced that it's moving out of the auction format and into a retail format. And they've been pushing out the small sellers for a while. There are a host of small sellers (and some of the big ones, too) who are leaving eBay and going to other online sites. In the forums, you can't say the names of these places, cause eBay will (naturally) take down the post. They're referred to as "the river," or "the moon." (There's one that is "Scotland," but I haven't figured it out yet. Anybody who knows, tell me, willya?)
I'll be one of them -- I'm finishing off selling my hard to find widgets that sometimes go for lots of cash, and opening up an online store over on the moon. I'll let you know where it is. Some dolls! Some hard to find embroidery books! Some really darling widgets!
I'm keeping my eBay account just in case I need to use it. And I'm going to continue to lurk on the discussion boards, to see how things turn out after the May changes in feedback. And I'm grateful to eBay for the lovely times I had buying and selling interesting and sometimes expensive crap. But I'm going to the moon, Alice.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
