12/11/2023 0 Comments Thread unfolder insanejournal![]() Script detects Expand links already on the page, it won't add any more (unlike Yes, but only for paid users (or if you are viewing a paid journal). Some of the other Greasemonkey scripts available). If you have JavaScript disabled then it will replace the non-working.Yes, I'm aware that I'm probably the only person in the world who browses with JavaScript actions on any existing Expand links so that you can still use them. ![]() Greasemonkey enabled and JavaScript disabled…Īlthough this script borrows some ideas (and possibly a few lines ofĬode) from its predecessors and also from LiveJournal's own threadĮxpander, it is a complete rewrite from scratch. : LiveJournal made a small change that broke the script's JS-detection, meaning the script stopped working on browsers with JavaScript enabled - a small fix has been applied.: Added to list of included sites and fixed the script to work on one of their styles (the one used for dw_news).Īlso changed one line that got left out of the previous Opera fixes.Made a few fixes to try to make it more Opera-friendly.Working over 80 hours within 8 days has me a bit blurry and bleary, but I'm on holiday now, with two of my favorite eighty-three-year-old women. They're both sharp as the proverbial tacks and Jane likes to drive, so I got to curl up on the back seat of her car and sleepily listen to them discuss everything from Nashville-based characters in Ann Patchett books to meetings of the Native Plant Society.ĭuring lunch (at the Ocoee Dam Deli & Diner), the recurring conversational threads about nature and hiking led Nancy into reminiscing about being a young wife in Poughkeepsie, and how she spent many afternoons with another faculty wife who was an artist and writer named Jean. Jean's brothers were prominent naturalists and she was married to a zoologist Nancy did not grow up as an outdoors person, but she ended up learning a lot about plants and animals in the course of walks with Jean, who was in the process of teaching her toddler about such things. By the time Nancy mentioned about the owl in the living room, I'd realized she was talking about Jean Craighead George. We reached Highlands in time for a terrific chamber music concert, followed by dinner at Wolfgang's with Nancy's children Kate and William (longtime performers at the festival). The conversation ranged from heirloom boxwood cuttings to seashell lamps and senior party girls. ![]() In chapter 7, Martini meets up with Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, the Yarn Harlot, a popular blogger who compares coping with hundreds of comments to coping with family: (One of Kate's friends has two orchids on display in the show I'm hoping to see them for myself later today.) And orchids: I learned that for an orchid to be considered for the Bascom Flower Show, it must have been in the gardener's possession for at least five years. "You say to your mother, 'Here're my new pants.' And she says, 'They're a little bit short.' And you're like, 'Did I ask you if my pants were too short? Did I ask for a judgment from you? I've already bought the pants. "The Internet is like that," she continues. "There is this huge community whether you want it or not. You have to learn how to take that the same way you learn how to take your mother's pants advice." If you want the pleasure of being able to say, 'Where do you think I should put this button? then you also have to put up with the fact that once you've decided, hundreds of people are still going to tell you your button is wrong. Stephanie has handled the pants advice with aplomb. Her mantra appears to be that you get more of what you pay attention to. ![]() ![]() Rather than focus on the irritating comments, she pays more attention to the mighty power of knitters. ![]()
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