It’s interesting to me that this concept of home library exchange highlights the inadequacies of libraries to meet patron demand. Before libraries existed in this country home library exchange would have been the only option to borrow something new, at least among those who could afford to have a book collection in the first place. From the site:
Is the book you are looking for too expensive or always unavailable in your local library? Would you like to save both money and nature and rather buy a used one?
BiblioFair helps you find publications available for sale, donation or lending in home libraries located close to you!
I don’t know if this would work for me, since when I weed a book at home I want it out of the house quick, and the books I want to keep around…I’m not very good at sharing. I just hear my dad over and over again in my head: never lend something you actually want back.
I dreamed I was walking in the desert, and came across and giant armadillo. Only it wasn’t really an armadillo. It was more like some ancient plated dinosaur predecessor of an armadillo, as big as a medium sized dog with a long armored tail that stretched suspended over the arid ground as the animal walked.
It was a pangolin. In the same order, Xenarthra, with armadillos, sloths and anteaters, pangolins are solitary, nocturnal and eat ants and termites. They’re also threatened because their armor plates are thought to be of medicinal value.
Are you hankering for some easily digestible, perhaps incorrect and outdated, home science and hopelessly optimistic paleo futurism? Then the Internet Archive’s collection of the Electrical Experimenter is for you. Read articles from the likes of Nikola Tesla, Hugo Gernsback, and Frederick Finch Strong.
What, you say you’ve never heard of paleo futurism before? You’ve never toured through the worlds we were supposed to have if the idealistic scientists of yesterday had their way? Then I also recommend Paleo Future, where you will find countless examples of how clean, peaceful and advanced we should be living today if all predictions had come true.
Every house has them: those rooms that need sprucing, the hole that needs patching. Well, after we finally painted the pokey hallway, my kitchen became the ugliest spot in the house. It’s visible from so many places in the house, it’s just too hard to ignore.
And it’s not that it was that horrible. The no frills black cabinets and grey laminate counter tops are actually in really really good shape and better quality than I had in my last few apartments. It took some time for me to warm up to it, but I no longer want to just rip everything out. I can deal with the counter being unlevel.
What was bad about it: paint splatters around the sink and the melted butter yellow paint splotches on the blue-grey walls, holes in the drywall from an open shelf pantry we removed on the opposite wall, and a lot of dirty. The paint splatters and most of the dirty just took a lot of cleaning, but the dirt smudges just wouldn’t budge off the mat finish blue grey paint. I didn’t like the color anyway.
We also wanted to inject some midcentury style back into the 90s remodel. In my dreams, this involves minty appliances, bold colors, and restoring the partial wall that was removed to make it ‘open concept.’ In my reality, we picked some retro feeling pattern for the backsplash ala kurtcyr’s pollen-euphorbia pattern on wallpaper at SpoonFlower.com. Updating the cabinet pulls with sleeker, super simple options made a huge difference, and we painted.
The result is extreme. The semi gloss we picked makes the room glow, though the effect is hard to capture on camera with all the windows throwing off the exposure.
Eventually, we will build a kind of partition to shield the living room from the stove top, instead of allowing it to throw grease and vapors willy nilly onto upholstered furniture from it’s place in the middle of the peninsula. I know this placement isn’t so clear in these pictures; I am dribbling out my before and after snaps so you only see how awesome it all is. More will come later.
It’s been awhile, but we all know what I do when I can’t find exactly the right thing while shopping. I draw it! Wish I had the ability to make these too.
My house needs one of these; my husband and I would be fighting over it all the time. The Hemingwrite allows you to type, with the tactile pleasure of a real typewriter keyboard, offline while still providing the ability to sync what you’ve written with your cloudy documents. It is projected to have a six week battery life and 1 million page, plus, memory, so get one when they are get-able, pack your gear and go camp writing; I’ll join you. Set Your Thoughts Free – Hemingwrite.
I still think this is an unexplored marketing angle, especially in a world where print book publishers are terrified that print book consumption is on the decrease. The food and make-up industries, among others, already use scent to make their products more appealing. Why not engineer books, through specialized paper and ink, with specific smells designed to attract buyers?
We’ve moved the pineapple. Initially I was worried about moving the plants when they were so large, but they needed sun that they weren’t getting in their original location: against the North side of the house. Without sun, they will never bloom; I found this out while trying to figure out what the plants were. I also found out that though it is really easy to grow pineapple from the top of any pineapple you buy in the store, it takes the plants two to three years before they flower and fruit. That’s a crazy investment for one primary and two secondary fruit crops before the plant is kaput.
It feels really great to look out on those derelict veggie beds and see something growing that I meant to put there, even if the pineapple plants came with the house.
I have not historically been very good at thinking up and executing costumes. Lately, I feel I’ve been doing a lot better. My most recent attempt, Devil in a Blue Dress:
I have also recently been Teddy Roosevelt and Medusa.
Or barely dabble. I’m sure a philatelist would have a conniption at the state of my stamps. My collections would be much more pleasing to a numismatist, but he would probably say that mine was a very mundane assortment; probably worthless. Likewise a petrologist would yawn, I imagine, until we got to the meteorites. I could almost be a deltiologist, but every time I gather up a good batch, I only try to find reasons to send them out in the mail. I’d probably be better at it if the mail brought them to me instead.
I used to be a devoted arctophilist, and still have many stuffed friends from my childhood, but have since mostly dismantled my collection.
I was never personally drawn to phillumeny, but I did inherit a lovely collection of matchbooks whose sulfur emissions are tightly contained by a gigantic jar. Woe to those that open it, though sometimes I do just to wake my nose up. My mother was very much a gnomologist, and I briefly followed in her footsteps until I tried paroemiography instead.
Lepidoptery always kind of creeped me out, and I find oology similarly squicky. Though I can kind of understand, the homes of plangonologists put me on edge as well, all those eyes!