Nature, Red in Tooth and Claw

Yesterday, The Cajun discovered a black widow spider on my side of the garage.  And his first response* was, "Honey, you should blog about this!"

See?  Right there in the middle?  Red hourglass and all!

Oh, dear.

This is by way of saying that The South may be more dangerous that I had thought.  Much as I abhor those dreadful Ginormous Roaches/Palmetto Bugs, they can't kill me.  Black widows**, on the other hand, can and will, without complaining much about it.  I'm not a fan of spiders under most conditions, but I don't mind them outside (where they darn well belong), or even in the garage.  But I don't allow anything more dangerous than myself on the property, so we admired her very briefly, took her picture, and then let her have it with the insecticide.  Requiescat in pace.

Driving around town several weeks ago, I saw a billboard for an exterminator service that mentioned termites, carpenter ants, the usual... and Fire Ants.  EEEP!!!  I've had a horror of those things ever since a very unpleasant experience climbing up a New Orleans levee.  I accidentally stepped on an anthill, and my feet were immediately covered in the nasty little things.  The pain was severe, the bites took months to heal, and I still have a few scars on my ankles, over 6 years later.  So it is not comforting to know that there are more of them here, perhaps waiting for me to step on them again so they can finish the job.

Yes, I know that there are dangerous critters up North as well, where the odds of getting nipped by a copperhead or contracting Lyme Disease or trampled by an angry moose are substantially higher.  But I've never found any of those things in my garage, just inches from my car***.

By way of comfort, The Cajun happily reminds me that at least we're not in Australia****, and that the likelihood of being chomped on by an Inland Taipan or a Funnel-Web Spider are pretty remote.

Hilarious, darling.  Go clean the garage.



* OK, technically his second response.  His first response was pretty close to mine, which was, "OMGWHEREISTHEBUGSPRAY!?!?!?!?!"

** Lactrodectus mactans, should you wish to freak yourself out with a couple of rather icky spidery pictures.

*** A skunk, on the other hand, yes.  The skunk happily wandered back out after 20 minutes (and no damage except some spilled birdseed, fortunately), but the dog spent the rest of the evening in hysterics, trying to claw his way through the connecting door.  We were all very relieved that it was a very laid-back skunk and didn't seem to mind all the barking.

**** This is a direct reference to one of my very favorite books, Bill Bryson's In a Sunburned Country, in which he devotes a chapter or two to the astonishing number of animals Down Under that can kill you.  9 of the world's 10 most poisonous snakes, man-eating saltwater crocodiles, blue-ringed octopi...  According to Terry Pratchett, the only safe critters down there are some of the sheep.

Avert Your Gaze!

A huge thank-you to the Insatiable Booksluts, not just for having the most fabulously named blog ever, but for reminding me that Banned Books Week begins on Saturday, September 24.  To see some wonderful lists of what some people think you shouldn't be reading, click here.  Now, if you're anything like me, you're just going to use these as a checklist for what to read next*, but be forewarned that these books are dangerous!  Full of sex, violence, gay penguins, and "religious viewpoints!"**

Just a few of the more subversive titles we have in the house.

One of my perennial favorites is the ALA's list of Banned and Challenged Classics***, in which we learn that we are not the only ones to heartily dislike having to read Upton Sinclair or William Faulkner in high school****, but that some people took their frustration a bit too far.  'Cause, kids, if I had to read all the nasty parts of The Jungle in 11th grade, by golly, you should have to do it, too.

So get out to your nearest library or bookstore and celebrate!  Read something that (gasp, horror) makes you THINK!

* Though Twilight has made the Top Ten List for the last two years, and I'm still on the fence about that one.  Half of my friends have recommended it highly, the other half have said it killed off too many of their brain cells.  Maybe I'll get to it if I run out of other ideas.

** Political viewpoints, too.  Because viewpoints are dangerous and you shouldn't have them.^

     ^ And, yes, the Holy Bible is on the list of frequently challenged books.  That there's irony, kids.

*** "Challenged" is actually a better word to use since (fortunately) we rarely, if ever, ban books in this country any more.  Challenging happens all the time, though.

**** Except for The Cajun.  As I Lay Dying is one of his favorite books.  Weirdo.

I'd Tell You to Kiss My Grits, But That Would Be Unhygienic

As you may have already noticed, I like food, both academically and, well, edibly.  And one of the things that fascinates me most is what people eat in other places.  Being a New England girl raised by Midwestern parents (of Italian and German extraction), I grew up on basic Middle American cooking*, interspersed with spaghetti, braciole, and the occasional lobster roll.

When The Cajun and I got married, I was quickly introduced to the exciting world of Cajun cuisine and to the culture of a family obsessed with food**.  I was also introduced to the conglomeration of cuisines that I still tend to think of as "Southern Food."  My knowledge of the foodways down here is still evolving, but to me, "Southern Food" tends to mean things like fried chicken, grits, coconut cake, and, sadly, vegetables cooked until they're well and truly dead***.  It's taken me some time to embrace some of these (OK, the fried chicken and the cake didn't take long).  Okra, for example, was a very hard sell, though I finally capitulated last year at a terrific BBQ place in, of all places, Somerville, Massachusetts.  Learning to like grits took nearly as long, but I do now accept and embrace them as a valid and even darned tasty part of A Balanced Breakfast™.

The water wheel at Suber's Mill

All of this is a rather long-winded introduction to what we did on Saturday morning on our way between home and errands, which was to see Where Grits Come From.  In between Spartanburg and Greenville is a town called Greer, and not far from the center of Greer is the 100-year-old Suber's Corn Mill, still in operation by the same family, using the same equipment.

Suber's Corn Mill in Greer

The millstones are in there

 It was very quiet, but as soon as we got out of the car, Mr. Suber called us in and showed us around the building.  They're open 6 days a week, but they only grind on Tuesdays and Fridays, so we're going to have to go back to see that.  It's a lovely, peaceful place, not touristed up at all, and everything is covered in a fine layer of corn flour.  They do both cornmeal and grits, so we came home with a bag of both.  Cornbread will be made later in the week, but I can already tell you that the grits were excellent, nice and creamy with a great flavor.

Our loot.  Our yummy, yummy loot.

In addition to the lovely corn products and the tour, we also learned from Mr. Suber that they had recently started grinding specifically for a brand-new distillery opening in downtown Greenville.  "I think they're having their Grand Opening on Main Street today," he said.  And by a very pleasant coincidence, we were already heading to Main Street!****  So in addition to lunch, gelato, and haircuts, I also had my very first taste of authentic South Carolina Moonshine at the Dark Corner Distillery.  Fortunately, and I am truly grateful for this, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as I expected.  Slightly harsh, but with a nice sweet finish and a pleasant corn flavor.  It's a really interesting place, and I'll be curious to see how well they do there.

Breakfast.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there are leftover grits in the fridge, and it's lunchtime.



* Basic is not to say it wasn't good.  My mother is a darn good cook, but there are many things she'd rather be doing.  Like hiking, canoeing, reading, playing with the dog...  Almost anything, really.

** By obsessed I mean that many, if not most, family meals are spent discussing what we're going to eat for the next meal.  And once that's decided, we move on to the meal after that.

*** Although the South doesn't have a monopoly on dead vegetables.  My Michigan-German grandmother was an outstanding cook, but there were few vegetables that she didn't feel were improved by a good, long boiling.

**** No, really, it was a coincidence.  The Cajun gets his hair cut there, and that's where the gelato shop is.  A very convenient coincidence, though.

On to My Soapbox

This is my library*.

The Headquarters branch, complete with fountains.

It shouldn't surprise you that I am a passionate fan of all libraries, but public libraries are special.  I know - I spent 7+ years without access to one**, and I'm grateful to have one now.  As an academic librarian, I have the utmost respect for the folks who work there, professionals and para-professionals, who do much more with much less*** and deal politely and compassionately with all members of the population (even the ones who aren't any fun to deal with).

The library was my lifeline when we lived in Cambridge, and now that we're down here, it's payback time!  I'm now volunteering a couple times a week in the circulation department, doing one of the things I like best: Interlibrary Loan (ILL).  ILL has always had a special fascination for me, in part because finding the right resource for a patron can be like a scavenger hunt****, and because sharing stuff and making patrons happy gives me a nice warm, fuzzy feeling.  There's also the appeal of being able to get nearly anything from anywhere, which makes me a trifle giddy sometimes.

After having lived in states that amply funded their public libraries (Ohio) and those that didn't (Pennsylvania), I've been very pleasantly surprised by the Spartanburg Public Library system.  It seems to be pretty well-funded; all the branches (except the Law Library) are open at least 6 days a week, and many of them even have Sunday hours, and the collection seems to have everything I want (for the time being).  Despite budget cuts and the crappy economy, there have been no positions lost, and no furloughs required (MUCH better than many), and both branches I've been to have been busy at all hours.  Everyone I've spoken to, both in and out of the library, has been genuinely proud of the system.  It's a nice thing to see.

So, what exactly is Interlibrary Loan?  Exactly what it sounds like.  You want a Terry Pratchett audiobook† or that book by the Ball Corporation on making your own pickles, and your library system doesn't own it.  So you talk to the nice librarian and she puts in an ILL request for you (or you do it yourself, smartypants), and we...

1. download your request
2. figure out exactly which edition/format/thingy you want
3. figure out which libraries own it
4. figure out which libraries will actually share it with us (this part can take the longest sometimes)
5. ask those libraries, one at a time, if they'll send it to us
6. make sure it's the right thing when it arrives (yes, really.  You'd be amazed.)
7. check it in so all the appropriate systems know it's here
8. let you know it's here
9. let you have it.

...and then send it back when you're done.  Easy!  Which it is, really, but some of the steps (particularly the physical handling) can be kind of time-consuming, and the SPL only has 2 people (plus a few pages) to handle ALL of the requests from ALL of the Spartanburg libraries.  So that's why I stop in 2-3 days a week and try to make some of the piles a little smaller.  Some days I check things in that just arrived, some days I mail things back that we're returning, and some days I spend 3 hours on the computer, asking libraries to send us stuff.  It's fascinating to see what people are interested in.  So now I feel as though I'm contributing to society again, doing what librarians do best: connecting people with the information they need††.  It feels rather nice.


* Well, actually, this is my library since it's the Boiling Springs branch and it's closer to home.  The above is the Headquarters branch, which is further away, but I spend most of my time there.

** Fortunately, I was working at a Very Large State University Library at the time, so I wasn't hurting for reading material.

*** This, incidentally, is one of the reasons that I am an academic librarian and not a public librarian.  Even at my least-funded place of employment, we were spoiled in comparison to our public counterparts.

**** And also because ILL, unlike the rest of my job, didn't involve quite so much wrangling of dollar signs.  Beating the budget into submission is necessary, but it's not always fun.

† Oh, wait, that's me.  Never mind.

†† Though I confess that, if you're the one who just ordered the DVDs of the complete 2nd season of that Kardashian show, we all laughed at you.  Just a little.  Sorry.

The Cake is NOT a Lie!

Today, The Cajun turns 26*.  Happy Birthday, Sweetie!

Shirley Corriher's "Deep, Dark Chocolate Cake" with Italian Meringue, if you're curious**.

As a celebration, we're going for a tour of this place.  Pictures may or may not ensue, depending on their policies.


* That's in hexadecimal.  His actual age is left as an exercise for the reader^.

     ^ Why, yes, I was a math major.  Why do you ask?

** Basically, it's a very big, very rich Suzy Q.  Can't wait to see what it's like on the inside.

Partly iced.  And very sticky.

Why, Yes, I AM Ready for Some Football!

When asked what my favorite season is, I usually answer, "Spring."  The end of snow and grey*, the emergence of flowering trees and bulbs, etc.  But in actual fact, my favorite season may be... football.

And after a long, hot summer, it's here!  We ran over to Greenville on Saturday to eat and do some errands, and at least 50% of the male population (and probably 15-20% of the female) were wearing clothing that signified some college football affiliation, either through logo or color.  How do I know this?  Because normally there aren't nearly so many people wandering the streets wearing exactly the same shade of bright orange.  When we moved here, many of our friends immediately asked, "Who will you cheer for?  The Gamecocks (University of South Carolina) or the Tigers (Clemson)?"  Judging by the amount of orange in the neighborhood**, we're firmly in Clemson territory up here.  But since we don't have any affiliation with either of them, we can happily answer, "Neither.  This is a Penn State/Alabama household, and thus shall it stay."

Another beautiful day in Beaver Stadium

Though I'm not a fan of participating in team sports myself, I was raised by two parents who really like both their football and baseball.  I was more of a baseball fan early on, but started to pay more attention to football when I began working for Penn State University.  And then, I went to my first game there, and I was hooked***.  Also, I have learned that college football and professional football are, apparently, two extremely different things.  I've long been a Steelers fan****, and happily spent both my Saturdays and Sundays (and occasional Mondays) watching games.

Not down here.  Soon after The Cajun started his new job, one of his colleagues said, "Hey, you've lived Up North for long enough that you probably like professional football."  When asked why this was unusual, the colleague replied, "Well, there aren't any professional teams around here."

"What about the Carolina Panthers?"

"Including the Carolina Panthers."†

So our house may be the only one in the subdivision making lots of noise on Sundays during the Steelers games, but we certainly won't be the only ones asking about the score of the Alabama or Penn State games if we're out and about on Saturday.  As a matter of fact, The Cajun was wearing his red (sorry, crimson) Alabama golf shirt, and the hostess at brunch took one look at him and said, "The Alabama game is on upstairs in the bar if you'd rather go up there."  Which was something of a surprise, since we're, well, not in Alabama.  And then, walking back to the parking lot, we passed at least one person who muttered, "Roll Tide!" as they passed us (also an Alabama thing.).  This is a level of football enthusiasm which I had not previously experienced, but I think I'm going to enjoy it.

Now, for Thursday night, when the professional season begins, and my weekends will be complete!††



* Particularly when I was working in Erie, PA.  3-4 inches of snow every day for at least 2 months, and only the very occasional sighting of sunlight.  Awful.

** And the orange flames and enormous paw prints on the neighbor's golf cart.

*** Yes, the college that The Cajun and I attended did have a football team, and I usually went to a game or two every year, but the school was small, and sports weren't that big of a deal.  Going to a football game in an enormous stadium with 108,000 other screaming people is a different experience.

**** As well as a Pirates fan.  Though a Connecticut Yankee, I was born in Pittsburgh during an era when all their sports teams were winning everything in sight, and my parents and I have remained die-hard Pittsburgh fans ever since.  Even though the Pirates don't always live up to the standards of the other two teams.

† The Carolina Panthers are, technically, a professional football team and, while they play in Charlotte (just an hour up the road), they spend their summers practicing at Wofford College, which is less than 5 miles down the road from us.  They're about as local as it gets^.  They also got the first draft pick in the NFL draft last year, which means they were the worst team in the league.  So, they're a professional team, but just barely.

 ^ And we won't be cheering for them anyway.  Their new quarterback is from Auburn University, and, as The Cajun is firmly in the University of Alabama camp, we don't like him.  For my international readers, just know that certain universities DO NOT care for each other.  It's easier not to ask questions.

  †† And by complete, I mean far too much time spent staring at the TV.  Good thing I can get stuff done during the week.