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Button up, kiddies, because we're going to talk about Britain's recent storm. I'm limping in well behind the event, but I usually do. It's part of my charm, and you're just going to have to take my word for that.
At the end of February, Britain got whacked with a snowstorm, called, since it came in on an east wind, the Beast from the East. It shut the country down.
How much snow does it take to do that? Drumalbin, in Scotland, got 50 centiwhatsits. That's in the neighborhood of 20 inches, which—Minnesotan that I am (or was; I could argue it either way)—even I will admit is enough to count as a legitimate snowstorm. Further south, Cambridgeshire got 26 centithings. Let's call that a foot of the stuff. It blows around, so I don't feel the need to be exact.
Here in Cornwall, we got less. I'll come back to that. In the meantime, let's talk about the country shutting down: Cars got stuck, turning highways into parking lots, and drivers and passengers got stuck with them, waiting in their cars for I have no idea what. Rescue? Instructions? Warmer weather? Enlightenment? I understand why you wouldn't want to walk away from your car in a snowstorm, but on the other hand, how long do you sit with it?
In one highway-slash-parking lot, the driver of a bakery truck gave up on the idea of delivering his goodies and passed them out to the folks he was stuck in the snow with. He was a hero, at least for a while, and got in all the papers. I'm not sure what happened when he got back to work—the papers haven't covered that. If the bakery has any sense, they'll give him a bonus, because they got great publicity, but I wouldn't want to bet on that happening.
Someone I know of took in drivers who got stranded near her house. They were with her for a few days.
A woman was in the news because she left her car on the side of the road and walked to safety. She came back to find it had been towed and it was going to cost a shitload of money to get it back. And to make it worse, before she left it there she asked a cop if it was would be okay and he said sure, it would be fine.
Schools closed. Roads closed. Trains were canceled. Houses lost power. The supermarkets ran short of milk, bread, fruit, vegetables, and whatever else you happened to want. The Daily Mail wrote scary stories about sixteen-inch snowdrifts.
You Minnesotans, stop that. If you hardly ever see a snowdrift, sixteen inches is impressive.
British friends say two things to us in these conditions.
One: Isn't it beautiful (or some variation on that)? It is and you can have my share. I've seen enough snow to last me several lifetimes. I don't expect to get any extra lifetimes in which to spend my stockpile, but in case I do, I'm ready.
Two: How is it that we can't handle this when Canada/Poland/Finland/wherever it is you told me you're from don't shut down every time they have a snowstorm.
It's mostly true that they don't, but any of those places can counts on having a fistful of snowstorms per year, so they invest in more than a fistful of snowplows, not to mention mountains of sand mixed with some strange chemical that melts ice and rusts cars. Their citizens are born clutching tiny snow shovels. It makes childbirth incredibly hard but once you get that out of the way, snowstorms are nothing.
On top of that, people in those places know how to drive in snow. And the ones who just can't learn? They get Darwined out of the herd not long after they get their driving licenses.
Okay, now we can get to Cornwall: I can't find a reliable source to tell you how much snow we got here, so let's consult me. I'm anything but reliable, especially with numbers, but I am available. Where I live, in North Cornwall—which you can also call it East Cornwall if you're in the mood; it's not exactly the same, but it'll do—we got an inch or two. South and west of us (that's called down west), they got more. How much more? I wasn't there, but it hit them earlier and seems to have caused them more trouble.
The last Cornish snow I saw was wet. It packed into ice almost immediately, so it was lethal. That was eight years ago, give or take a year or three, and I didn't drive in it. Anything around here that isn't a hill is a curve, so driving on ice? I'll just do some baking, make a cup of tea, and stay home, thanks. That's one of the best things about being retired. But this recent snow was powdery and dry and easy to drive in, and the temperature–unusually–was far enough below freezing to keep it from half-melting and then turning to ice.
Even I will admit that it was pretty. And as soon as a decent layer had fallen, the streets around us blossomed with parents pulling small kids on plastic sleds, which was also pretty.
Where did the sleds come from in this land of almost no snow? No idea. Fax, maybe. You order them online and the machine spits them out almost immediately.
I've heard that up on the moors the snow was heavier. Whatever weather the rest of Cornwall gets—wind, rain, heat, snow (you notice I haven't mentioned sun)—the moors get more of it.
The county did some plowing and salting, but they start with the main roads and we're on the way to nowhere, so they wouldn't get to us before July, by which time its sort of beside the point. Around us, it was farmers who did the plowing with their tractors. Of course—and I say this for the benefit of people who've never lived with snow—when roads get plowed, snow gets pushed to the side, and if you have a driveway guess what happens to it? A lovely, dense layer of snow compacts across it and if you hope to get out you have to shovel your way through it. It's heavy, heavy work. I did it a lot when I lived in Minnesota, sometimes breaking a (much too narrow) slot through the snowbank in front of the house so we could reach the street and sometimes to dig our cars out after the alley had been plowed.
Okay, I admit it: Some years we didn't get that slot to the street cut after the first storm, and with each storm that followed it became harder to shovel through the snowbank. Getting from sidewalk to street involved mountaineering.
Our excuse was that it's damn hard work. And in Cornwall almost nobody owns a snow shovel. We don't even own a snow shovel, never mind a–oh, what are they called? Not icebreakers–those are ships. And not ice scrapers–those are for windshields. I have been gone a long time. One of those blades on a shovel-type handle that's meant to deal with ice.
Anyway, for lack of the right tools, people end up trying to dig themselves out with soup spoons.
So that was the Beast from the East. Not at all bad where we were but tough further north and on the moors.
The next day, the Beast from the East met a wind from the west, a storm named Emma. (I'm not sure the Beast from the East didn't get a formal name while Emma did. Weather people move in mysterious ways.) The combination brought freezing rain to Cornwall. Everything had a nice, slick layer of ice on it, and that stuff can kill you.
What did my partner and I do? Stayed the hell indoors. I may call her Wild Thing, but she's not that wild.
With the ice, the village was cut off. Again,we're on the way to exactly nowhere. It would take the county as long to get around to salting our road as it would take our current national government to locate both its brain and its heart. So when the driver who was supposed to deliver milk to the village store called to say he wasn't coming because if he once got into the village he wouldn't get back out, the store put out a call on Facebook, asking if anyone with a four-by-four could meet the truck.
The store got its milk. That's life in a village.
For what it's worth, I've never owned a four-by-four, but I'm pretty sure they're no better on ice that a two-by-two. Never mind, though. They got through.
It wasn't just the snow and ice that affected us, though. The houses around here are built—oddly enough—for Cornish weather, which rarely dips below zero and never stays there long. Except when it does. What I'm trying to say is that water pipes seem to be put in any which way.
Okay, I'm not a plumber. I'm sure a good bit of thought goes into them, but a friend's water pipes turned out to be above ground. Insulated, but above ground. That looked like a sensible thing to do when the house was built.
Guess whose water pipes froze solid for a few days?
In northern Minnesota, the frost reaches five feet into the earth. In southern Minnesota—we're soft down there—it only goes down 3 feet, six inches. Wild Thing and I were told once that footings had to go down either six or seven feet (I can't remember which) to keep the frost from messing with them. Water pipes? They go through the center of the earth. Just to be safe.
Our friend wasn't the only one whose pipes froze. So did an assortment of other people's. So did water mains all around the country. Parts of London went without water for days—long after the temperatures rose.
The day after the freeze, as the temperatures rose and the ice started to melt, the delivery trucks reappeared and the store ran out of milk. The dairy's pipes had frozen and it took them a day or so to recover. The supermarket's shelves were still pretty bare days days after the thaw.
The thaw? It came the next day. The temperature got up into the forties–above zero for the metrically inclined–and the whole mess disappeared and we got back to normal. Even the daffodils, snowdrops, crocuses, and primroses that had frozen (see the rare relevant picture, above) recovered. When I lived in Minnesota, I longed for weather that behaved that way.
A week or so later, another storm system brought snow and ice warnings (and I think some actual snow and ice) to the north of us. It was called the Pest from the West.
This is what happens when a country starts naming its storms. People have way too much fun with it.


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Let me start by saying that I'm sorry I can't give you more actual details about what's going on, but I've been advised to continue to keep them under wraps. Those of you who follow me on social media have already heard that I'm going through a difficult time right now. What I can tell you is that I am about to do something on the 14th which is absolutely terrifying to me and has incredible, life-altering implications. For me, Geoff and the fur-kids. And while I have lots of people (like all you dear, lovely folks reading this) who are loving and supporting me, it's all going to come down to the words I speak and actions I take on the 14th. I will be alone at the critical moment; the pressure feels crushing.
I feel like Louis Zamperini in the POW camp holding his wooden beam. I feel like Aerin facing the giant dragon Mar. I feel like the unicorn standing up to the Red Bull. I feel like one of Leonidas' 300. Frodo off to Mordor. Rosie and Pernicia. Lissar and her father. You get the idea.
One small, anxious girl going up against something far, far bigger than she is; ill-equipped for the job. The higher the pressure, the more my brain feels scattered and forgets important details. And it's crucial that I remember everything, no notes allowed. The outcome of this will have a huge impact on my financial state, which is currently pitiful. I need this win.
To say this has been stressful would be a huge understatement. This sincerely feels like one of the single hardest, most frightening thing I have ever had to do. But there's no getting around it, I HAVE to do it. And I will do my best.
The stress is causing giant waves of discord through my body, mind and soul; causing mayhem and destruction. For weeks now, every night, I either have stress dreams or I dream that I'm dying… the dying ones are the worst because, in my dream, it's wonderful, beautiful, the most peaceful, joyful thing I've ever experienced. And then I wake up and remember real life and it feels like a glorious gift has been snatched from my hands while the weight of life crushes down upon me again.
Despite numerous antacids of all kinds, I'm having persistent heartburn, often in the middle of the night. My pain levels are all elevated. And as you can imagine, my sleep is suffering in quantity and quality.
I'm not writing about this to simply throw myself a pity party. I am asking for your support. If you pray, please pray for a quick and overwhelmingly successful outcome. If you do Reiki, please send as much as you can. If you light candles, please light one for me. Please send all the love, good thoughts and energy that you can spare, whatever your system of faith may or may not be. I will gladly take it all!
I am determined to win this battle. And while it traditionally takes a while to hear about the exact outcome from the fight, I am equally determined to get an overwhelmingly positive answer, right then and there. I am visualizing myself being victorious. As much as I am afraid, I am doing my best to catch myself when I start to go into a spiral of worry over what will happen if I fail. When I notice those thoughts, I actively change my vision of the future to one that I want. I don't need to open myself up to attracting any negative energy!
One thing about all the metaphors I listed a few paragraphs ago; despite the odds, they all succeeded. Thinking about others who have overcome incredible trials is deeply comforting to me. If they could do it, I can do it too.
I can say one thing: this is not about a new turn in my health or anything else along those lines. My health is fairly crappy right now, as is usual, but I have not taken a turn for the worse… other than the spiked pain, non-stop migraines, constant tension in my whole body, wildly increased anxiety, panic attacks and depression as well as extreme exhaustion brought about by all of this. It's stressful to the point where I don't even want to edit or create many days, which is an almost unheard-of low for me. But these are clearly responses to the weeks and weeks of stress and worry. I don't want you guys to worry that I'm hiding some terrible new diagnosis from you.
I know I will get through this. And I know that with Geoff, I will deal with the outcome, whatever it is. But more than that, I know I will win. I have to. Knowing that doesn't take all my fear and anxiety away, but it does give me hope to cling to.
I feel incredibly fragile in every way, but I will battle and I will be victorious. Still, your prayers, well wishes and love would mean a great deal to me right now. I can use all the help I can get.
I promise that I will try and let you guys know exactly what's happening just as soon as I can. I appreciate that you're all being very understanding about that and respecting the fact that I simply can't divulge much right now.
This self portrait felt especially appropriate for this post. It serves as a reminder and inspiration to me to keep fighting, to get up when I'm knocked down, and most of all, never give up. Thank you all so very, very much for all your support! I cannot thank you enough.
With that said, please wish me a miraculous victory as I go into this battle. Now, let me go find my suit of armor.

subset: commoncrawl


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Coming home from another drubbing at the hands of a hated enemy, I was scrolling through my new iPhone, looking for something suitable to ease the pain. Midlake? Far too minor key. Hot Chip? Too cheery. Mark Eitzel? That'll do nicely. There's something in his tone of voice; that soft, gentle warmth that envelops you even as he's singing about how he's been drinking too much and he's down on his luck and all that. Just what you need when you're hacked off spending a grand a year watching a bunch of overpaid tossers fanny about.
Speaking of pay, I read an interview with the charming Mr Eitzel toward the end of last year in which he stated that he was pretty much bankrupt; couldn't afford to tour with a full band and was living from one month to the next. So, in honour of one of the finest singer/songwriters the US has produced, please listen to the song below and then go and buy the album from which it comes ("Klamath"). You can have it autographed and everything.
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Maaarrrrkiiiieeee, happy birthday to you.


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Sept. 4, 2012— -- Breast feeding, daily moisturizing and hormone replacement therapy can make a woman's breasts appear more beautiful, but smoking, drinking alcohol and having multiple pregnancies can take an aesthetic toll, according to researchers.
A study of identical twins published today in the Aesthetic Surgery Journal, "Determinants of Breast Appearance and Aging in Twins," shows environmental factors play a key role in how a woman's breasts age.
Other factors like higher body mass index (BMI) and larger bra and cup sizes also contribute to accelerated breast aging, according to the study.
An estimated 316,848 women had breast augmentations and 127,054 had breast lifts performed in 2011, according to the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery.
Now, women can identify lifestyle behaviors that can slow the aging process to avoid surgical intervention, according to the study, which was funded by a grant from the Aesthetic Surgery Education and Research Foundation.
For the last three years, plastic surgeon Hooman T. Soltanian of University Hospitals Case Medical Center and Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine in Cleveland, Ohio, studied 161 pairs of twins.
"It's very rare that both twins have been through the same exact environmental factors throughout life," he said. "The idea was that they have the same [breasts] from a genetic standpoint. If we see a difference, it's more likely to be environmental factors."
Soltanian collected data from consenting women between the ages of 25 and 74 at the annual Twins Days Festival in Twinsberg, Ohio. The average of the study participants was 45.5 years old.
"The twins come from all over the country for a weekend to have fun and celebrate," he said. "We have been using that opportunity to study their breasts. It's not a longitudinal study, but a cross-sectional study."
The study had two parts. First, each set of twins was given a questionnaire on lifestyle habits, such as smoking, drinking, number of pregnancies, use of a bra, stress at work, sports, hormone replacement therapy moisturizing and exposure to the sun. Each twin answered independently.
Then, photos of the twins' breasts were taken "in a secluded area by professionals." Those photos were "subjectively evaluated by independent reviewers."
Soltanian acknowledged there is "no objective measurement" for what makes a breast "beautiful." But researchers looked for skin tone, droopiness, shape and areola size.
With the data, researchers ran a regression model. "One by one, we check for different factors and try to weed out what is making a significant difference and what factors don't," he said.
Moisturizing seemed an "obvious" advantage on a breast's appearance, showing fewer wrinkles, according to Soltanian. "We know from facial analysis that if you take care of the skin, it slows the aging process down."
Those who received hormone replacement therapy after menopause had more attractive breast shape, size, projection, areolar shape and areolar size.
The study seemed to refute myths about the negative effects of nursing a baby, findings that even surprised Soltanian. Even though the size and shape of the areola had suffered, the skin quality was better in women who breast fed.
"All these twins did not breast-feed without being pregnant and pregnancy has a negative effect on breast appearance," he said. "My explanation is that women who breast fed have a different hormonal milieu -- sort of like internal hormone replacement. So even though those were disadvantages, they gained some benefit."
Soltanian, who does reconstructive surgeries for women after breast cancer, said this twin research could be expanded to longitudinal studies that look for environmental influences when one twin has cancer and the other doesn't.
As for the study's importance, he said, "It's obvious to me that breast appearance and breast health as a whole are a major part of female health."
But according to Judy Kuriansky, a sex therapist from Columbia University, there is no discounting the psychological importance of breast appearance to women.
Breasts carry such anthropological importance, she said. "Like the hip size, it's about being fertile."
"Women are obsessed with their breasts at all ages, because men are obsessed with their breasts," she said. "No matter how liberated women feel about their bodies, their breast size is so tied up in their sexuality and self-image."


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This week: Strange habits of writers and feeding our muse…
Thanks to Carolyn Spear for this week's questions, and if you landed here via Katherine Givens, thanks for continuing through the RW circuit.
If someone observed you writing without you knowing, what strange practices might they catch you doing?
Besides numerous trips to the kitchen scavenging for food, I have an awful habit of chewing my cuticles…while my crystal ball comes into focus.
Other than a creative outlet, how does writing benefit you?
Last week, I expounded on the therapeutic benefits writing provides me. In addition, my spelling has improved as well as my keyboarding speed. I pay more attention to plotting and and such with movies and books, but the down side is I tend to dissect them which sometimes robs the joy.
How do you feed your muse?
You mean other than chocolate! Thus far, my stories have been inspired by a character or an impression from a book, TV or movie. After years of watching Rescue Me, I wanted to write a klutzy heroine on her way to becoming a firefighter. Jo didn't turn out that way in Hot as Blazes, but her academy mate, Tami became a comedic sidekick earning the title, Black Widow.
Relaxing on the beach or by the pool frees my muse to explore story ideas. I've found walking is the best way to exercise story problems. Last but not least, the almighty shower can be Zen.
Please visit the lovely and talented Collette Cameron to see how she feeds her muse.


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Yoga is not teaching religion.
Or is it?
A California judge has ruled that Yoga in a public school's fitness program does not amount to teaching children religion because it is rooted in American culture.
To me, the whole debate on whether Yoga teaches religion or not, is blatant cultural appropriation of Yoga. Don't get me wrong. I am happy that kids will be allowed to practice this blissful routine, but equally unhappy that this debate has robbed Yoga of its true origin, and meaning.
So is Yoga teaching religion or not?
To understand this, you first have to understand what is religion.
Religion from a western perspective is a set of practices and beliefs in a Higher Being, which is referred to as God. To reach God, a person needs a medium, which is outside of him or her – a separate entity. In the Indian context, to understand religion, we first need an equivalent word in Sanskrit, the ancient Indian language in which the Yoga philosophy is composed.
But the challenge is: there is no equivalent word for "religion" in Sanskrit. The closest and the usual translation is, "dharm", written as Dharma in English. But dharma can be translated to mean law, justice, belief, virtue, morality, and a righteous way of living, to name a few.
According to the Indian holy texts, it is dharma that sustains the world. The set of such dharmic philosophies is called Sanātana Dharma – loosely translated as the eternal law/way of life.
Now the challenge is how to define Sanātana Dharma in the framework of religion. It does contain sets of philosophies, but not one, many. It gives codes of conduct, but not a universal one – it differs from person to person, from life to life and from karmic debts to karmic debts. It is not one rigid philosophy.
This Sanātana Dharma is understood and translated as modern-day Hinduism. But it is tricky to equate Sanātana Dharma with the word Hinduism.
"Hindus" didn't choose the term Hindu themselves
The word Hindu doesn't exist in the most revered holy texts of the "Hindu" world. It is because "Hindus" didn't choose the term themselves. It is more of a recent ethno-geographical term. Pre-modern India was situated across the river Indus (Sindhu) and the people beyond the Indus river were referred to as "Hindus". According to scholars, the Persians first used the word.
Later, when Mughals invaded India in the sixteenth century, the non-Muslim population was referred to as Hindus, which included Buddhists and Jains. Then came the Colonial Masters – the British who didn't really understand the concept of Sanātana Dharma and set the word "Hindu" in the framework of religion – forever.
To a Hindu, the word Hinduism is just an English equivalent; in essence, it still means Sanātana Dharma. But to a westerner or a non-Hindu, the concept is lost in the framework of "religion".
Why? Because unlike Christianity and Islam, Hinduism doesn't have just one Holy Book or scripture that is central to the "Hindu" vision, or just one sacred place. Hindus draw their code of conduct and living from numerous texts and scriptures – the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Purans, the Ramayana, the Bhagavad Gita and it has not one, but many holy and sacred geographical places – spread all over India.
The "Hindu" belief is: every being is divine within; this Absolute Supreme Divinity within is called "Brahm". A person doesn't need an outside agent to reach Brahm, as it rests within us all and we all rest within it – Aham Brahmāsmi.
Yoga and Hinduism:
And here comes the role of Yoga – it is through the practice of Yoga, one can reach Brahm, the Supreme, Absolute Divinity, attain moksha (loosely translated as liberation from the cycle of births and deaths) and rest in bliss forever, as there is no eternal hell or heaven in Sanātana Dharma. And by Yoga, I don't mean just the breathing and the physical postures. The "Hindu" way of worship, belief, practice, way of living is all part of the Yogic philosophy.
So, though it can be said that Yoga is not teaching religion, Yoga is teaching Sanātana Dharma: the eternal way of life.
And Sanātana Dharma is today's Hinduism.
So Yoga is indeed teaching about Hinduism.
No "ism" in Hinduism:
But don't stifle Yoga in the framework of "ism", which literally means a distinctive practice or philosophy. There is no "ism" in Hinduism, as it does not conform to one fixed set of laws. So the whole debate on whether Yoga is about religion or not, does not hold any water, because the framework is grossly incorrect.
By comparing Hinduism to a western religious philosophy is inappropriate because Hinduism in its true eternal form – the Sanātana Dharma is not only about a religious belief, it is about technology, life sciences, environment, mind, body, science – all rolled into one. If Sanātana Dharma has come to be known as Hinduism, take the word on face value, because no word in English can mean what Sanātana Dharma literally stands for. It is above any one definition, belief and philosophy. It is the eternal law.
But you still can't strip Yoga off Hinduism, by doing so, you are robbing Yoga of its essence. The cultural appropriation will serve no purpose other than making Yoga a new form of a quiet exercise routine, which the West has unashamedly done to a great extent. But in the end, all the poses, breathing, still point inwards – to the Brahm, to the Absolute Divinity within, to Sanātana Dharma, to Hinduism, albeit without the ism.
(Disclaimer: This piece is just a small try from my side to explain what Yoga in the framework of Hinduism – Sanātana Dharma – literally means. In no way, it is exhaustive as Sanātana Dharma is a vast concept. Feel free to ask me any more questions on the topic, I will try and do my best to answer in the comments section or in a new post. Thank you!)


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Newsmap. Monday, December 14, 1942 : week of December 4 to December 11
Front: Text describes action on various war fronts: New Guinea, Solomons, Pearl Harbor, Tunisia, Libya, Dakar, Toulon, Italy, Russia, France. Large world map is keyed to text and illustrates time zones around the world. Includes inset maps: Dakar; Northeast Tunisia; Tripoli and environs; Russian Front; Guadalcanal Island; Bougainville Island; New Britain Photographs: Convoy to Africa; Advance to Tunisia; Street scene: French Morocco Back: The text entitled "Antiaircraft artillery" describes antiaircraft weapons. The other text "The Dance of the Ninety" describes a 90mm gun. Includes photographs: KEEPS 'EM FALLING -- EYES -- EARS
Date: December 14, 1942
Creator: [United States.] Army Orientation Course.
System: The UNT Digital Library


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At a panel discussion on advertising, Esquire U.K. editor Alex Bilmes let fly with a whole spiel about how his magazine treats women as "ornamental." And he would like a cookie now, please, for his "honesty."
Bilmes said:
"The women we feature in the magazine are ornamental. I could lie to you if you want and say we are interested in their brains as well. We are not. They are objectified...We provide pictures of girls in the same way we provide pictures of cool cars. It is ornamental. Women's magazines do the same thing."
But as the Guardian reports, Bilmes said that he thinks men's magazines' portrayal of the female celebrities they cover — the typical clothing-optional photo shoot, the typical overwrought, sexualized cover profile — is fairer and more "honest" than that of women's magazines. Because a) tits and ass and b) Cameron Diaz.
"We are more ethnically diverse, more shape diverse," he said. "In fashion magazines women are much thinner. We have older women, not really old, in their 40s." He went on to cite the example of actress Cameron Diaz, who is in her 40s, as an "older" women used on the cover of a recent issue of Esquire.
When Cameron Diaz — a former model who turned 40 in August — is your magazine's best example of size and age diversity, you are doing size and age diversity wrong.
Men's magazines do frequently objectify the women they feature, and it's nice that Bilmes has the intellectual honesty to admit it. But he also has the gall to pretend that the objectification and sexualization that his magazine peddles is somehow a higher grade of bullshit than that peddled by the ladymags. That's specious at best. Esquire U.K. is a magazine where recent cover lines have included "Why Men And Women Should Never Work Together" and "Look Sharp, Bag A Bridesmaid: How To Rock The Reception In Style." Truly ground-breaking gender equality stuff, that.
Esquire Editor: We Show 'Ornamental' Women In Same Way As Cars [Guardian]


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The Babe. Mr. October. El Hombre. And now Kung Fu Panda.
Pablo Sandoval joined Babe Ruth, Reggie Jackson and Albert Pujols as the only sluggers to hit three home runs in a World Series game, and the San Francisco Giants rolled over Justin Verlander and the Detroit Tigers 8-3 in Wednesday night's opener.
"I want to know what he ate for breakfast, so maybe we can get it for the rest of our team," Tigers catcher Alex Avila said.
Barry Zito — remember him? — won in his World Series debut, two years after poor performances caused the Giants to drop him from their postseason roster.
Coming off a Game 7 win over St. Louis on Monday night, the Giants looked fresh. Following a sweep of the Yankees and a five-day layoff, Detroit had a Rust Belt relapse reminiscent of its 7-2 loss to St. Louis in the 2006 opener.
"Man, I still can't believe it," Sandoval said. "When you're a little kid, you dream of being in the World Series."
Detroit tries to even the Series on Thursday night, sending Doug Fister to the mound against Madison Bumgarner. The winner of the opener has claimed the title 66 of 107 times, including eight of last nine. The NL is seeking to win three straight Series for first time since 1979-82.
"I think momentum is your next day's pitcher," Tigers manager Jim Leyland said.
A crowd of 42,855 in orange and black made the AT&T Park stands look like a large bowl of Halloween candy.
Sandoval hit a solo home run to right-center on a 95 mph 0-2 fastball at the letters in the first. He reached outside and hit a two-run, opposite-field drive to left in the third on another 95 mph pitch from Verlander, the reigning AL MVP and Cy Young winner. Then added another bases-empty shot into the center-field batter's eye in the fifth, this time on an 84 mph offspeed offering from Al Alburquerque.
Verlander was chased after allowing five runs and six hits in four innings, his shortest start this year, and he dropped to 0-3 with a 7.20 ERA in World Series play.
"I just didn't execute tonight," Verlander said.
Left off the 2010 postseason roster by the champion Giants, Zito shut out the Tigers until Triple Crown winner Miguel Cabrera's RBI single in the sixth. San Francisco won for the 14th straight time with Zito starting — quite a turnaround from his image as a $126 million bust.
When Giants manager Bruce Bochy tried to call Zito on Tuesday to let him know he was getting the ball, Bochy couldn't get through. Turns out Zito had left his phone at the ballpark.
"Just the opportunity alone was mind-blowing. Me and my wife were dancing around when I heard," Zito said.
Sandoval, given his nickname for his roly-poly physique, was benched in four of five games during the 2010 World Series, his production and confidence down, his weight up. In the stands on this night, fans wearing furry panda hats celebrated with him.
"It's just a pleasure to be a part of it all," he said.
There had been only one previous three-homer game at the ballpark — by the Dodgers' Kevin Elster in the very first game in 2000. No Giant had hit three at home since Barry Bonds back in 1994 at Candlestick Park.
Perhaps because AT&T has become a premier pitcher's park — there were just 84 homers there this year, 25 fewer than any other big league stadium.
"I'll never forget it," Bochy said. "Three home runs on a stage like this, that's pretty impressive."
Ruth did it in 1926 and again in 1928, Jackson in 1977 and Pujols last year.
Sandoval also had success against Verlander in July, hitting the first bases-loaded triple in All-Star game history during a five-run first. The NL's 8-0 win wound up giving the Giants homefield advantage for the Series.
Marco Scutaro, the NL championship series MVP, twice hit RBI singles after doubles by Angel Pagan. NL batting champion Buster Posey contributed two hits, left fielder Gregor Blanco made diving catches to rob Cabrera and Prince Fielder, and Tim Lincecum came out of the bullpen to retire seven straight batters — striking out five.
San Francisco kept getting good bounces, with Pagan hitting a double that hopped off the third-base bag at almost a right angle and into left field. ALCS MVP Delmon Young, meanwhile, failed to run after a tapper in front of the plate that the Giants turned into a double play.
When Sandoval faced struggling Tigers reliever Jose Valverde in the seventh, he became the first player to bat with a chance for a four-homer Series game since Ruth came up against the St. Louis Cardinals' Bill Hallahan in 1926. Ruth walked, and Cabrera stroked a single to left-center.
"We were hoping for a water shot," Giants pitcher Jeremy Affeldt said, "but he got a lousy single. Kind of killed the whole deal for us."
NOTES: Jhonny Peralta hit a two-run homer for the Tigers in the ninth off reliever George Kontos. … This was the Giants' 50th World Series win. … The team hosting the first two games has won 21 of the last 26 World Series: the exceptions were Toronto (1992), the Yankees (1999), Florida (2003), St. Louis (2006) and Philadelphia (2008).
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By MIKE HOLMES
I saw a notice recently about a class action lawsuit against a shingle company. The problem was with their organic shingles not lasting as long as they should.
A couple of companies have recently come under fire with this product. What's the problem? They're cracking, curling and even being torn off roofs within a few years.
Most shingles come with a 25- to 30-year guarantee. The ones involved in the lawsuit did too. But many homeowners have had to replace the shingles within eight years — sometimes even as little as five. Who's to blame?
Homeowners say the product's no good. Manufacturers claim it's poor installation. What's the verdict? In some cases, the jury's still out. In others, settlements are being reached. But the truth is, settlement or not, homeowners just want a good product and a good roof. The hassle of re-roofing is a headache for everyone.
Booking a good roofing contractor is difficult — the best ones are booked months in advance. If you've already gone through the trouble once and have to go through it again within a few years — plus pay additional labour costs — it can make more than a just a couple of homeowners angry.
There's some confusion about organic shingles. Some people think they're green, environmentally friendly or made from organic material. That's not the case — it's just clever marketing. When it comes to shingles, organic means non-synthetic.
Organic shingles are regular asphalt shingles — the same petroleum-based shingles that have been on the market for decades. The reason asphalt shingles are now being called organic is because there's a new kid on the block: fibreglass shingles.
Most organic shingles have a layer of non-synthetic materials underneath the asphalt and granules, usually recycled newspaper and cardboard. Fibreglass shingles have a layer of synthetic material — glass fibre.
Organic and fibreglass shingles look the same. They're both made from asphalt and granules. They're installed exactly the same way too. But the layer of glass fibre makes fibreglass shingles absorb less moisture and be more resistant to heat, which increases their durability in warm climate.
Fibreglass shingles usually hold up better if a roof has poor ventilation. This can make some homeowners want to choose fibreglass — a kind of Band-Aid solution for a poorly vented roof. But I say fix the ventilation.
Proper ventilation means the temperature difference is minimized between the attic and air outside. This prolongs the life of your roof. It also eliminates moisture that can get trapped inside the attic. If moisture stays there, it can lead to rot and mould.
Building code varies from city to city. But my roofing guys like to keep one square foot of venting for every 300-square-feet of roofing.
There are plenty of different shingle products out there. Most homeowners choose based on their budget. But like everything else, you get what you pay for.
Compared with other shingle materials, asphalt is inexpensive. That makes them popular. Most roofs — about four out of five homes in North America — have them. But they're not as durable as other types of shingles.
Cedar shingles and cedar shakes are among the most expensive roofing materials you can choose.
These are the real "organic" shingles and they can be composted. Why are they expensive? Partly because of the material itself — cedar looks and smells great. But labour and installation costs are also high.
Installation is slow because each cedar shingle is nailed to the roof, usually by hand. It's also high maintenance. It's best to keep a wood roof as dry as possible, even if it's cedar. And you might also need to add a fire deterrent. But keep in mind: Time and weather will reduce its performance.
Some fibreglass shingles come with a 50-year warranty. They're also more fire-resistant than organic. Laminated or architectural shingles are thicker, making them more durable than regular asphalt shingles. But if you want top of the line, go with metal.
Metal roofs are my favourite. They're easy to install, fire-resistant, and, in terms of durability, there's nothing better — they last about 50 years.
What's the downside? Metal roofs aren't cheap. But they are definitely worth the investment. They last two to three times longer than asphalt roofs. Plus, metal roofs are recyclable. Some are even made from recycled metal. When you consider 10 million tons of asphalt waste ends up in landfills every year, metal roofs are the greener choice.
No matter what type of shingle you choose, quality is key. Always choose a high-quality product. It's better to have high-quality asphalt shingles than low-quality fibreglass or cedar shingles. And make sure the shingles you choose are installed properly. You can have the best quality shingle, but if it's installed improperly, it will not last. If you do it right, you do it once.