Category: stories

  • The Unknown, a local hypertext novel

    Heather took Jacob & I on a date last night.  First, we hit up a reading of a classic hypertext novel written by Urbana folks; then we nommed on some coconut ice cream from the food co-op & caught a show by Trutheater Theater at the IMC.  Yay.

    The Unknown, written collaboratively in the 1990’s, tells the story of a book tour that takes on the excesses of a rock tour.  I happened to find it a few years back, in connection with 20-consonant poetry, a quirky poetic form that has its writers use every consonant in order before repeating any & produces texts such as “I quit my job: a crazy wage slave, dead hunk of pox.”  When I moved to Urbana, I composed this 20-consonant poem in an email to Rob Scott:

    for urbana, you doozy:

    how you pique my vox kit.

    joy:

    i juggle la casa

    I had no idea, when I got interested in constrained poetry & the work of William Gillespie, that I would eventually move to his town & hang out with his friends.  A nice little surprise, that.

    So William & Scott hosted this reading (the third author, Dirk, not present), with the book projected on a screen.  The Unknown consists of several short chapters connected by hyperlinks, telling interweaved fictional stories of the three authors in no particular order.  Scott did the clicking; William dinged on a glass to accent the hyperlinks.  They both read aloud.  We, the audience, shouted out hyperlinks when we felt so inclined, & we navigated the book together.  Sometimes, we’d happen to come back to a page we’d been to before, & the authors would pick up in their reading where we left off.

    Afterward, the authors fielded some questions, about “electronic fiction” in general & this book in particular.  I enjoyed a little reminder that this work exists, & surely enjoyed hearing it come to life in a group setting.  Check it out & see what you think; the whole novel is available on the web, & has been since it was first composed.

  • Live Blogging Jacob’s Haircut with Hairdresser Maria

    listening to cliqhop.

    oh here comes heather.

    oh noes! maria cut herself. “oh it’s fine. i just don’t wanna get blood on you.” the assistant has gone missing. she wipes the blood on her leg.

    a bluish purple car pulls in across the street.

    maria thinks the music is too creepy.

    i would like my hair to not look like a clown. maria finds this funny & we snap a picture in the photo booth.

    Photo 231
    note the clown like hair on the sides of my head

    “i don’t know what this is turning into.”

    the music takes a turn for the worse.

    hair falls on my right arm.

    “i need a third hand.” “i know the feeling.”

    a moment of clarity as the music recedes & maria blows hair off my neck.

    “oh sweet, another cut.” wipes it on her leg again. ew!

    we discuss the differences between awkward and quirky. quirky can be cute. there is hair on the keyboard.

    “it sounds like you’re just snipping into the air.” “i’m shaping it, i’m giving you volume you’re gonna love it you’re gonna love it!”

    maria just cut herself a third time. i’m getting worried.

    here comes heather! the most prominent feature at this point is a puffy tuft on the top of my head. heather recommends trimming the tuft.

    Photo 232

    “it’s not really that hard to cut hair if you just…take your time.” today i thought the same thing about html coding.

    time to go make food.

    *Look for before & after shots soon!

  • Quote of Day

    There should be an alarm clock that wakes you up with the sound of a dog throwing up cat poop on a couch.

    – Jacob, who was awoken this morning at 5:30am by the sound of Sophie throwing up on the couch next to him. We surmised it was because she has been eating cat poop, but are not 100% sure.

  • blogaloon target practice

    The blogaloons, collecting dust in my room, made themselves useful once more.

  • praying mantis pods

    praying mantis pod

    A bunch of praying mantis pods were recovered from the burn pile yesterday.  The pods were attached to last year’s bamboo growth and were cutout when the grove was thinned.  Ronna found them in the brush pile and saved them because she thinks they’re beautiful.  They’re now nicely displayed on our kitchen table as an interesting conversation piece.

    praying mantis pods

    We got to talking about them and wondered if there were still mantis babies inside.  This caused Don and I to search for information online about praying mantis lifecycles.  We found this short video on youtube:

  • Honeybees arrive

    We installed two hives of honeybees today at La Casa.  Fellow co-oper, Robby from across town will be using our yard (and pollen) to raise honeybees.  Robby got his hive boxes from his grandfather who was a beekeeper.  Robby’s been taking classes from the Central Illinois Beekeeper’s Association: CEIBA.  Last night we picked up the bees from a queen breeder near Danville.  They were sealed in boxes for transport in the van.

    About 10,000 bees came with each queen.  Five frames from a two healthy colonies, along with a two queens were put into boxes.  Today we tranported the frames into the hives.  Robby moved the first colony, and I moved the second.  We had to wear full bee suits otherwise the bees would have stung us many times.  It was quite a rush carrying the frames full of bees and being careful not to disturb them too much.  We took a bunch of photos, and I’m just going to go ahead and post most of them.
    opening up the transport boxes
    Robby tried to calm the bees down with sugar water. There were hundreds flying around us as we were working.
    sugar water
    frame in the hive
    This is what frames look like installed in the hive. There are ten frames in each section of the hive. We mixed the five frames full of honey and brood (developing bees) in with 5 clean frames.
    moving the frames over
    most of the frames in now
    Most of the frames are installed. Just a few more to squeeze in.
    Queen bee spotted (green dot)
    You can see the queen crawling around in this photo. There’s a little green dot on her back. Try this hi-res version if you want to see her up close. She has a longer body and smaller wings.
    smoking the second hive
    I suited up and moved the second set of frames while Robby took photos. This time we tried the smoker instead of sugar water. The smoke calms them down and confuses their communication.
    holding up a frame full of bees
    Robby snapped this nice photo.
    more smoke to calm them down
    Calming them with more smoke. Only two frames left to move.
    Queen bee 2 (green dot)
    The other queen. Look for the green dot. Hi-res.
    bee work done, hives ready
    All put back together. Bees installed. The next move is to put more boxes with clean frames on top. The hives are designed to be modular, building up from the bottom box. Two big boxes at the base are where the queen builds up her colony. Then at some point smaller boxes are placed on top with a screen that lets only the workers past. Since only the worker can access the top boxes, no eggs are laid and they become full of honey. Since we’re starting this hive pretty late in the season, we might not get much honey this year. But its still a worthwhile project and if the hives survive the winter, we’ll have plenty of honey next year.

  • Adventures of Sophie, May 28, 2009

    soph1Sophie’s been home for like a day, in the care and keeping of her human’s fellow LaCasans, and namely me in this case because I’m the only one home at the moment. I rather promptly lost her. Don’t worry, I found her and have already paid my Karmic debt for losing her to begin with.

    I came home from a root canal this morning (Karmic payment for something else) and had some groceries, so I propped the back door open to ease bringing them in and then spaced it out. Sophie came to visit me in my room at one point and she was a bit wet. I figured JP had taken her for a walk before he left and she was still damp from the rain wet grass. Considerably later I decided to eat something as my mouth was losing it’s numbness and I figured I could eat without choking or biting my tongue off without noticing. So, I’m fixing my food and start wondering where Sophie is. She rarely, or never, misses out on any kind of food preparation. I called for her and then noticed the back door, still propped open. Crap. I went out to the back yard and called and called to no avail. So, I got her leash, hopped on my bike and began a loosely systematic search of the neighborhood while all the worst case scenarios swirled through my mind, getting my mental knickers in a twist.

    I’d searched half the neighborhood when fortune seemed to smile on me. I noticed a Sophie-sized and beagle-shaped dog just across Maple Street. But, no, it was the wrong color. I called, “Sophieeee!” and it almost looked up from whatever it was intently rooting around in. Oh, it was Sophie. Hmmm. I called a couple more times and finally she came home with me. BUT! Really, she was the wrong color. Much more of a solid shit brown than the tri-colored pretty pup she usually is. And not only that, but didn’t smell like Sophie, even on a bad day. She smelled much more like the lower intestine of a bovine than a dog. I have no doubt in my mind that it was one of the greatest moments of her life to find someones manure pile. She showed her delight and excitement by grinding manure deep, deep, deeeeeep into every single inch of her little dog body. Not a spot was unsullied by poop. And I don’t mean the well composted stuff that doesn’t stink that much.

    So, yeah,I gave her a bath. Frankly one bath did not do it. She’s still slightly unSophie colored and definitely still has a powerful odiferousness, but for chrissake, I just had a freakin’ root canal, so I’m not overly excited about bathing her repeatedly. But I might.

    She’s bummed. I’ve washed some of the stinky goodness from her that she so assiduously collected and now I won’t let her lie on my bed. I’m letting her lie on Andrew’s, though (please forgive me whilst I inexplicably snicker here). Sorry Andrew. Hopefully it’ll all air out by the time you and Jacob get home. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, though. Or I guess I would.

  • after the flood

    We got soaked yesterday and most of the garden is now underwater. yikes.
    Water logged garden
    from some news article… “In Illinois, a range of windy storms dumped as much as 3 inches of rain within 50 minutes. National Weather Service meteorologist Ed Shimon called the accumulation “unbelievable,” comparing it to heavy rainfall in the tropics.”

    today – dry
    tomorrow – more rain

    let’s hope this dries up soon.

    update: went out and snapped some photos with my “good” camera.  click thumbs below to see ’em.

    floodthumbs

  • neighborhood pancake breakfast

    Block By Block, a group of neighbors, organized a potluck style pancake breakfast this morning.  Before our house meeting, a few of us made it over for some delicious food, complete with maple syrup that was tapped from maple trees in the area.  I forgot to bring my nice camera, but I brought my phoneCAM.

    Community pancake breakfast

    It was great to meet and chat with so many neighbors at once.  I had some really great conversations, and we went home with a cucumber plant!
    Local syrup

    Block By Block Cooperation is a group of neighbors in unhistoric east urbana (the historic part starts north of Washington).  They are organizing people and raising awareness of local food issues.  Its really exciting to see such things happening only 2 blocks from La Casa.  There are so many projects that we can work together on.

    neighbor Sam tapped the local maple trees to make syrup for the pancake breakfast, thanks Sam!
    neighbor Sam tapped the local maple trees to make syrup for the pancake breakfast, how f-ing cool! It came out really delicious. what a treat, thanks Sam!
  • Across the street from the “center of the universe”

    As the Spring gets on, it seems like a lot of strange coincidences keep happening.  The other day while we were making eggs and potatoes for breakfast, we heard a gathering across the street.  We walked out in PJs, coffee in hand to see about 50 or so people gathered at the corner to see Roger Ebert’s childhood home dedicated with a plaque.  Mr Ebert himself was in town for his annual Roger Ebert Film Festival, and was there for the occasion.
    Roger ebert grew up across the street woah

    He walked around and greeted all those who attended, and several local notables spoke a few words.  I later heard that the woman who taught Mr Ebert how to read and write was there to congratulate him, but that may have been a rumor.  All in all it was a good start to the day, and our housemates were eager to tell friends about the event.  We like our neighborhood very much so learning that Mr Ebert was once very much a part of it is cool.  Growing up, my parents watched Siskel and Ebert a lot and would sometimes let me lay between them and watch too.

    I snapped the above photo with my cell phone and put it on my flickr page almost as a habit, and a friend commented.  She said, “Sweet! You’re living at the center of the universe: blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2009/04/410_east_was hington_stre…”  I didn’t know until this morning but Roger Ebert keeps a blog.  And its a great blog (as to be expected from someone who won a Pulitzer for his writing).  He recently wrote a very lucid post about growing up in his Urbana home, which is just two houses away from where we currently live at La Casa.  His post begins, “I was born at the center of the universe, and have had good fortune for all of my days. The center was located at the corner of Washington and Maple streets in Urbana, Illinois…”  Wow, tell me more.

    I’m sure a lot has changed in C-U since then, but many of the places he reminisces about also exist in my memories of this town.  I spent time on photography projects in the cemetery, snuck around Altgeld at night, the powerplant, the railroad tracks, cobblestone streets whose tree canopies must be at least 50 ft taller than they were back then.  His descriptions of the Urbana of 50 years ago are fascinating, and very much worth reading if you’re familiar with the area.

    Ebert was a writer for the Daily Illini, the same student newspaper where I worked during my undergrad years.  Although I didn’t write, I took photos.  I probably learned more taking photos for the paper than I did sitting through photography classes, mainly because it was an applied learning environment.  You really figure out the relationship between aperture and depth-of-field when you come back from an assignment and all your photos are blurry.  I can only hope that some day I will earn a Pulitzer with the skillz I picked up from the DI!  Ahh but with the digital age its hard to make a living as a photojournalist (not to mention a regular journalist).

    My housemates and I keep talking about connecting with the history of our Coop and our community in general.  Urbana has a very rich history of social justice and political activism.  We are finding that the interconnectedness of the online world is helping us do that, as we find old coop members through facebook and by way of blog comments.  Its really a fascinating process to witness, and knowing that there are people like Mr Ebert who keep a blog and seem to have a photographic memory makes me hopefully that there are many connections to still be made.

    Here’s a bit about our Center of the Universe.  We are surrounded on one side by the “Historic Neighborhood of East Urbana” and on the other side by a somewhat new grouping of condominiums.  Our yard, which is just shy of 3 acres, seems to be the biggest undeveloped lot in the area (and the largest patch of turf after the high school).  We are constantly wondering what used to be here and why no one built anything out there.  About a month ago, a permaculturist named Peter Bane visited us.  He grew up in Urbana like Mr Ebert and his grandparents used to grow a bit of food in their yard as well.  He had many stories to share about the neighborhood as it was.  He told us that our lot was the lowest point in the area, and the reason it was never developed was because it was probably too water-logged.  Now it seems to be the only substantial greenspace close by that isn’t a park.  Mr Bane taught permaculture to Rob who then designed and planted the garden that exists today.  We also heard from the owners of our house that a large community garden existed along the dirt drive the edges the property, but that was a long time ago.

    We’ve dug a few holes recently to put up a clothes line and the excavation shed some light on the history.  We dug through a layer of bubbly looking cinders from the coal that used to heat the house, probably from when Ebert lived across the street.  There is actually still a pile of coal in our basement and the foundation has the hatch that it was shoveled through.  These little things remind me of what was here before I moved in and the collective experience of a changing neighborhood in the middle of America.  I wonder if as a boy, Mr Ebert spent time in our yard as a lot of neighborhood kids still do.  Were there raspberries growing along the fence back then?

    The great thing about the internet (and Web 2.0 if you’re into that lingo) is that its conversational.  There are feedback tools like commenting and rating (often a thumbs up or down 😉 that allow for two way communication.  In reading Ebert’s post I noticed that he replies to many of the comments that readers leave, and so I can only assume that he is excited as well about the potential connections to be made through online participation.  In that spirit I’m going to comment on his post with a hyperlink to this one.  Thanks for your compelling stories from Washington and Maple Mr Ebert.

  • don’t mind me, just a little mushroom in with the plants

    mushroom in with the seedlings

    A couple tiny mushrooms popped up among our seedlings the other day. I was unable to accurately identify them using our field guides, and I’m still wondering if mushrooms are some sort of indicator that we’re doing something wrong. Either way, I thought they were interesting.