In freakish death news: Stingray strike results in sunbather's death

A woman in the Florida Keys died today when a stingray jumped from the water and stung knocked her down as she was sunbathing on a boat. Judy Kay Zagorski, 57, reportedly fell backward and died of head trauma. From CBS4.com:

"It's a common behavior for Eagles Rays to go 'aerial', or breach the surface," said Robert Rose, a curator with the Miami Seaquarium. "There are many reasons why they do it. They could be fleeing a predator or trying to dislodge a parasite..."

In South Florida waters, Rose said spotted Eagle Rays can grow up to 12 to 15 feet, from nose to tail, with a width or wingspan of 6 to 8 feet.

Originally it had been reported that the ray stung her, implying she died from that....

Oh, and the ray died too.

The smaller rays in the tank at mumblemumble either NM or Ala museum come really high out of the water on the sides. Considering you can reach your hands in it, it can be pretty alarming.

There was an article in the paper a couple of months ago about a young-ish couple that bought a house. They both had pretty good salaries and they got the "get an ARM, you can refinance in a few years" thing, and they figured they deserved a nice house, so they bought a really nice house. No down payment, so they had money - they furnished the house and fixed it up. Took some nice vacations. Bought a pedigreed puppy and hired a dogwalker. The wife got pregnant and went on maternity leave. And then the whole thing hit. oops. So now they can't refinance, they're trying to make the payments on one salary, they're looking at the rates going WAY up in a couple of years.

The response wasn't terribly sympathetic; MY response isn't very sympathetic.

A woman in my office was talking about how she was looking last year and they were willing to pre-qualify her for something like $400K ... and then she thought about it and decided not to take a chance.

And, to add, one of the "hidden costs" that comes up is when people go to closing and suddenly there are hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in additional fees that have to be paid or they can't close.

okay, Plei, could you please explain what you mean by overlift and lift?

Most colors will lift the underlying natural color by a couple of levels and deposit a second color on top of it. This makes the overall color brighter/more uniform/blah blah blah. But it's all a balance, and the hair closest to the scalp is prone to bleaching/lifting faster, while being less damaged and absorbing less of the actual color part of the dye. (I'm using highly non-technical terms here.)

A no-lift color just deposits over what's already there.

ETA this is a good example of what roughly the same amount of $ will get you in my current neighborhood: [link] It would probably be a better choice in any number of ways, but that is NOT a shining example of architectural beauty.

The first house is a short sale (note the subject to lender approval). Cute, but small (1400 square feet total living space per King County records), and in a so-so area.

Looks like the one up in Northgate is also a short sale, based on the price at last purchase.

The mid-century split levels are shockingly livable. We saw one that we'd have purchased if it had been half a block down from where it was, just because the space was nice and the floorplan excellent. They also tend to be well-constructed, from the last era of good construction for everyday homes.

The mid-century split levels are shockingly livable. We saw one that we'd have purchased if it had been half a block down from where it was, just because the space was nice and the floorplan excellent. They also tend to be well-constructed, from the last era of good construction for everyday homes.

Yeah, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that unless I write a book that somehow turns into a major movie, I'm never going to get my dream Seattle house, which would be something like this: [link] or this: [link] That's the one bad thing about going to church in that neighborhood--it's just about impossible to make it to Sunday morning services without committing the sins of Greed and Envy between parking the car and walking in the sanctuary doors!

I'd love to live in a beautiful 100-year-old house. But I also love living in Seattle, so I just have to live with the tradeoffs.

The reality of homes like that is that they are gorgeous, and utterly unsuitable for life with a toddler.

We did see one at the upper end of our price range. Gorgeous, box beams, walking distance to everything, updated but well done kitchen. (No real yard, thus the price.)

And I realized that all that gorgeous woodwork was cruisin' for a bruisin' with the girl around, and that as gorgeous as it is, that's not my lifestyle.

The house we're moving to is over 100 years old, but never was a fancy thing. It's got character, while not being museum quality. More importantly, MUCH more importantly, it's in a neighborhood I know and love.

I want to squish this puppy [link] or possibly chomp on it.

Okay, that's a bit disturbing....

that as gorgeous as it is, that's not my lifestyle.

I've been thinking about precisely this! Lots of the things I like are totally not conducive to a child. And, frankly, now I make choices based on appropriate for kid vs. desire of mom. Which I guess is one of the things that parenthood is about.

Which reminds me of this Billy Collins poem. I've never appreciated my mother more than I have this year. Or I should say I never really understood the sacrifices she made for me and what a deep well of love she has for us.

I'm on chapter 3 of The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians and I'm not even scared yet!

The reality of homes like that is that they are gorgeous, and utterly unsuitable for life with a toddler.

Well, those aren't so much the houses I'd like to buy now as the ones I'd love to think I'll someday be able to afford but probably won't.

I think why I lust so strongly after the older houses on Queen Anne Hill is that when I lived in Philly, I rented houses of about the same vintage that had once been fine single family homes that had turned into cheap, shabby student housing for Penn and Drexel. So they were banged up and abused, but you'd look at the woodwork, the moldings, the hearths, and so on, and think how absolutely beautiful they'd be with a good remodel and proper care. I used to dream of buying one and fixing it up, back when I thought I was going to live in Philly forever. And whenever I visit friends from church who live in houses like that (though I haven't seen any quite so very posh as the two linked above), I think, "This is the kind of place I always wanted to live." But it's not going to happen.