Saturday, September 29, 2012

Calling Out Plagiarism


Blessings Darlings!

I respect authors, artists, etc - as a result, I take a hard line on plagiarism, as I've mentioned before. And I don't keep silent when I see folks do it FaceBook.  Oddly enough, that doesn't endear me to some people.  Specifically, it doesn't endear me to plagiarists.  Which, actually, cheers me quite a bit - if I am to be known by what groups hate me, being hated by plagiarists is a fine thing in my never humble opinion.

Well, I ran into some plagiarism in an open FaceBook group earlier this month.  It was posted on the 14th, I saw it and snarked on the 26th, and they (the plagiarist and her friends) found it today.  Instead of saying something like "ooops, you're right, I should have linked back to my source, Llewellyn Publishing's blog at <this address>", the plagiarist called ME negative.  Because pointing out plagiarism is negative, but plagiarism itself is white light and unicorn farts? 

Here is the complete text of the conversation, as of this moment.  I had to get someone else to grab the text for me (given the results, easycapture.com seems to rock!) because the plagiarist blocked me during the conversation.  If you'd like to check, the link to the group is https://www.facebook.com/groups/219529221497038/?bookmark_t=group .

I expect that the group owner didn't think s/he would need a plagiarism policy, that no one would do it.  But plagiarism puts the OWNER at risk, so some policy would be a good idea.

Anyway, for your reading pleasure:



Frondly - and HONORABLY - Fern

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A Bad Influence

Blessings Darlings!

H. Byron Ballard, a delicate flower of Appalachian womanhood and the author of "Staubs and Ditchwater", is A Very Bad Influence.  She sent me a copy of her book, which I am enjoying immensely and will write a review of when I am done reading it.  But I'm reading it slowly, because I am savoring every word of it.

What, you ask, makes a woman I just raved about a Very Bad Influence?  It's because she makes me even more shameless about what I do that draws strange looks.  Let's look at today.....

I needed the car, and the Spawn needed to work AND to get to the county health department before it closed at 4:30 to renew his food handler's certification.  Of course, instead of getting off work early as he had been promised, there was a rush at the restaurant and two of the three managers were in conference and the third was interviewing a potential new hire.  So I was in the car, reading and waiting.  Nothing new about that.  And, no, it wasn't that I did a little something something to free my son to get to where he had to get to on time.

No, I tried to head out to the wilderness across the street from the restaurant to see what wild herbs/weeds I could gather.  Discovering that I hadn't paid the cell phone, so the spawn could not call me back once he got off, I gave up that idea and paid the phone and then read some more.  Okay, an attempt at some root work prep that failed.

Spawn got off work, with a full 22 minutes to get his recertification done.  Got to the health dept. with plenty of time.  I grab the plastic bags, and see what there is to collect around THERE.  Pine cones, from some spruce - Great!  Oh, LOOK - HUGE gobs of sap have fallen off the trees!  Gather that .... a few nice feathers, one from a duck most of the rest probably from pigeons, sure.  Oh, my - BLACK WALNUTS!  gather gather gather gather ....

You have no idea just how thrilled I am at the black walnuts and the pine sap.  And, knowing me, I'd have collected all that even if I was NOT reading her book.  But reading her book certainly helped me feel absolutely NO shame in doing it.

Wish I had found some fallen black walnut branches....

Frondly, Fern

Friday, September 21, 2012

Demeter Devotional

Blessings Darlings!

There is a call for submissions to a Demeter devotional being put together.  Read all about it, and submit your stuff!

Just thought you should know.

Frondly, Fern

Dammit - this works better if I actually include the link, doesn't it?

http://neosalexandria.org/bibliotheca-alexandrina/calls-for-submissions/untitled-demeter-devotional/

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

The Life You Save

Blessings Darlings!

First aid/CPR/EMT training is an area you need training AND MIND TRAINING to be able to use in a crisis.  I know - I've seen someone fail at this, someone who was fully trained.  Let me tell you that story....
October 28, 1999, I believe the date was, a typical fall day.  I'd taken part of the morning off work to go to the opthamologist since I needed new glasses, but gotten back to work at the credit-counseling place by 11 am. The office had been noisy the day before, with folks cutting down the ornamental cherry trees outside our windows, but it was quiet this day. My supervisor, M, and I were going over some payments from my clients to more effectively pay off their debts.  She'd been off work the week before, in the hospital due to heart problems.

Suddenly M put her head down on the desk, then fell off her chair to the floor unconscious.  I called out to the office, "Folks, we have a problem" (shades of Apollo 13!) and dialed 911. By the time I explained the situation to 911, everyone had rushed to my office.

"Everyone" included T, who was a volunteer with one of the local Fire Departments.  She regularly bragged about her skills, her training, her ability to scrape victims off the streets, etc.  So we all rather looked to her to take charge.  Instead, she freaked out.  She TORE the chair that M's legs were still entangled with out from M's legs.  She left M in the position she had fallen in.  She varied between encouraging the gasping M to keep breathing and running to other offices in the building to ask if anyone knew CPR, not staying long enough to get an answer.  She (and others in the office) kept calling 911 because the response time was achingly slow (WE could have driven to the fire station in 8 minutes, and it took them 18 minutes to show up, bells and whistles going.)  911 started putting all calls from our office on hold.

M stopped breathing.  At this point "A", a woman from the office next to ours, came by to ask WHY we were looking for someone who could do CPR.  Like me, she'd been trained in CPR several decades earlier.  She and I were the ones who did the CPR on M until the paramedics finally arrived, used their defibrillator,  got M's heart started again, and took her to the hospital.

T's meltdown could have killed M.  No brain is good for going something like 13 minutes without oxygen circulating thru' it.  Luckily, M ended up with 'only' a concussion from hitting the concrete floor, a knee problem from the yanking of the chair, and some memory loss.  I'm thinking that this incident was what finally got her doctor to give her a pacemaker/defibrillator.  I'm also thinking that had she been a white woman, not a Black woman, her doctor would have already have given her the pacemaker/defibrillator, because even with insurance there's a clear difference in medical interventions done in the US, but that's a story for a different day.

T had far more up to date skills than A and I had, but A and I stayed functional enough to actually do something useful with the skills we had.  THAT was was mattered.

Ironically, or perhaps logically, the rest of the day almost everyone else in my office were basket cases.  Me, I did tear up a few times, for sure.  But I also burned energy loading the trunk of my car with that recently cut cherry wood.  And I was the only staffer who counseled any more clients that day.

Being functional breeds CONTINUING to be functional, possibly because you don't have guilt or self-recrimination going.

Go forth and be functional.

Frondly, Fern

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Monday Morning

Blessings Darlings!

Mondays aren't a 'thing' with me.  I work at home, so it's not like this morning is somehow different than other mornings are. 

So it was a real surprise when this morning (and I realize that all y'all will likely be seeing this on Tuesday) turned into a stereotypical Monday.

I was up, had meditated, had nagged the Spawn about dirty dishes in his room, etc, and was sewing a patch on my husband's jeans.  The Spawn headed out to work ... then ran back into the house.  "I can't get the freezer door to close!" 

We have a 1978 Sears 14.7 cubic foot upright freezer in the garage.  It is NOT frost-free.  It already needed to be defrosted after the long humid summer.  But apparently last night, after the spawn got home from work and took out a frozen hash brown ... unit? .... Patty?... to bake, he hadn't closed the door well/totally.  As a result, a bit more frost built up and now the door physically could not be closed.

Having told me, the Spawn left out for work.  Leaving me with, well, work to do.

Now, I've gotten pretty efficient at defrosting this freezer since we bought it in January of 1979.  But I was having trouble this time.  No matter what I did, that bottom shelf WOULD NOT THAW.  It only got worse.  Being clearly brain-dead, it took me 90 minutes of work to figure out the problem - in my rush to get things out of the freezer, get water boiling, etc, I'd forgotten to turn the darn freezer off. 

It's amazing how quickly that shelf thawed after I'd turned the freezer off. 

At least that's done.  Even if it's a rainy/humid fall I shouldn't have to defrost again until after Thanksgiving.

Frondly, Fern

Monday, September 17, 2012

150 Pieces of Chocolate on the Wall

Blessings Darlings!

We've been out of eating chocolate for a couple of weeks now.  It didn't bother me much, since I can be happy making a cup of hot cocoa; or mix cocoa powder, vanilla, and some sugar into yogurt; or make chocolate pudding. 

The Chubby Hubby, OTOH, wants some chocolate on hand that he can just unwrap and put in his mouth.  The problem with Ready To Eat Chocolate is ... I eat it.  Shamelessly.  Which is one of the reasons we were out of eating chocolate to begin with.  Sure, I had bought that chocolate after Easter when it was half price and I didn't get THAT much of it, but long story short - it's gone and I ate more of it than the CH did.

Well, today I had to go into the Big City to hit the bank for business, and hit Costco on the way home.  After all, I needed gas for the car anyway, right?  And wouldn't you know it, whether it's because Halloween is coming or school has started, they had the big bags of 150 pieces of good-enough chocolate (Kit-Kats, Reese's, Almond Joys, bags of M&M's, etc) for under $15. 

We now have 148 pieces of chocolate in the house, and the CH has stored the bag of the survivors on a High Shelf.

But I know where the step-stool is.

Frondly, Fern

Friday, September 14, 2012

Poofiness

Blessings Darlings!

I've been making my own laundry soap since about the beginning of the year.  It's a pretty simple recipe - grate a bar of soap, add a cup each of Washing Soda and Borax, mix well, use 2 tablespoons per load.  It's easy to make, with grating the soap taking the longest time.

So today I opened a new package of Ivory Soap to make a new batch.  It was ... dampish. I couldn't grate it.  How can I dry it?  I looked up 'nuking Ivory Soap' online, and found it was a COOL thing to do.  The stuff .... blooms.  It would have been a GREAT part of a lesson on foams while we homeschooled.

My family and I had a GREAT time playing with the blooming bar of soap.  And much to my delight, the expanded foam, once cooled, was a breeze to crush into tiny soap flakes, better than anything I'd grated for laundry soap making. I am exceedingly pleased with the results.  Well, the poofy flakes go rather more airborne and made me sneeze, but that's not a big deal. 

Frondly, Fern