Dangerous Compassions

comprehensively funny

“Weird Al is very comprehensively funny,” Ming said, smiling, making a gesture of roundness.

Yeah, I’m a comprehensively nice spouse.  He could make a gesture of roundness about me.  I excel at round.

I’d shared with him the Stevie Wonder song “Pastime Paradise” that Coolio’s song “Gangster’s Paradise” is based on.

Wow, I didn’t know Coolio was standing on the shoulders of giants.

And then after the Stevie Wonder song Pastime Paradise, and Gangster’s Paradise, I played him Amish Paradise.  He found it hilarious.

I saw the Amish Paradise video long ago and found it clever, but I don’t know.  It’s rude.  I guess Ming is ok with that kind of rude.

“I was never a Weird Al fan,” Ming said.

“You seem very…susceptible to his charms!” I said.  It’s like he missed that part of being a teenager.


“You’re getting serious,” I said to Ming.  “You’re putting on pants!”  He was newly up.  His pants seemed to represent a commitment to being awake and about.

“I don’t want to put on pants!” he said.

“You don’t have to wear pants!” I said.  “You want a skirt?  Some shorts?”  He is welcome to wear my clothes and can fit into some of them.

“No,” he said.

“You can wear whatever you want.  As long as it’s not an endangered animal.  I guess.  Not restricted plants, either.  Like peyote.  You can’t wear peyote pants.”

Then I was laughing.  I want to draw peyote pants.


I made some oatmeal, a little too much.  Often I do that–it fluffs up.  I never measure stuff like that.  My toppings were pecans, hemp seeds, and oatmilk.  It’s good, and I offered a bite to Ming.

“You’ll love it,” I said.  I fed him a tasty pecan bite.

“Mmmmm!” he said, munching.

“You’re just performing,” I said.

“Mmmmm!!” he said more energetically.

“Like a circus seal!” I said.

“Arf arf!” he said.

I got more oatmeal yesterday, almost magically.  We were running out–instant oats.  My favorite.

food box

Yesterday we spontaneously picked up a food box from a giveaway.  We were riding trike and bike, and Ming was like, what are those people doing over there?  He saw the popups.

So we rode over there.  A nice security guard explained how people are supposed to call ahead and get a number.  A bunch of cars were arriving, to pick up food boxes.  Fancy cars!

There we were, on trike and bike.  We got laden with food boxes.  A brilliant lady strapped Ming’s box to his bike, his rack on the back.  She used this long, trash, plastic shrinkwrap stuff.  She was amazing.

Potatoes, onions, cabbage, fruits, rice, oatmeal.  And there were pounds of frozen chicken, but we don’t eat birds at all.  So it was confusing.  We gave one of the big bags of frozen chicken to our community member who cooks, who happened to be home.

Probably that looks like a reasonable amount of chicken to you.  Well, it’s not.

The remaining bag, I decided to cook all the chicken and give it to the guys at the backhouse.  It had been 20 years or so since I cooked any fowl.  I googled if I could cook it from frozen and how to do it.

Ming knew where there was a meat thermometer, so I made sure it got to 165 before giving it to the guys in the backhouse.

sky sky

There was some wild sky stuff yesterday.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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