I'm home sick today. I hate being sick. Hate it.

It started as PND irritating my throat, but now I'm stuffy and coughing my lungs out. Yuck. I didn't sleep well, sitting upright I was fine, prone, forget it, I'd cough until I couldn't breathe. Maybe I'll sleep tonight....

Sorry I'm so miserable.

Weekend Roundup

I just got the asparagus in the oven and thought I'd start on my weekend post.

Asparagus in the oven? What the...?

I'm glad you asked, here, let me show you:

Oven-Roasted Asparagus

Preheat oven to 425° (roasting setting if you have it)
Trim, clean and pat dry a bunch of asparagus



Place in a baking pan and drizzle with olive oil




Roll the pan back and forth so the oil covers the stalks


Roast for 10 minutes
In the mean time, thinly slice 1-3 cloves of garlic


After the first 10 minutes toss the asparagus and garlic together and return to the oven for 10 more minutes


Voila!

Increase the time if you have thick stalks, decrease if thin.

 

Anyway, the weekend. Dan left for Florida Friday for a golf trip and Fern went to a friend's house for the evening so I took Kevin to the mall to eat at Red Robin. We then headed off to the book store and I popped into a new shop: Bare Escentuals. It's a mineral make-up shop. Kevin was behaving so I got a demo. I don't normally do a lot of make-up, but the display of colors was very inviting.

The first step with their system is a silicon "primer" so the mineral powder will "stick." Then you put on your foundation color. I looked at myself in the mirror at that point and it looked like I had funeral home make-up on, just no color at all. After that a veil goes on, followed by "warmth." It's to add color back to your face, applied in the shape of a "3" to your forehead, cheeks and chin, it is supposed to highlight the areas touched by the sun. After all those steps, you get to add blush and color to your eyes. I still don't understand what all those steps were doing, but when I got home later, it looked like I'd aged about five years, all that stuff had settled into every fine line I had and magnified it. No. Thank. You. The five steps was the first killer anyway, but I know I didn't need the extra years on my face.

Saturday I carted Fern off to ice skating lessons and team practice. Kevin didn't have his activity because the schools had been closed the day before so he got to run errands with me: milk and gas at BJ's and 150 boxes of Girl Scout cookies, only 20 of which have homes. I ordered a lot on faith, I hope I'm not stuck for the balance. Cookies anyone?

Fern's iPod has been shocking her, she says she can feel electric current in her ears so Saturday afternoon we went back to the mall, this time to the Apple store. I expected them to test it and figure out what was wrong, but they just gave her a new one. Without the inscription on the back. And no music. She's bummed because she has to re-do all her on-the-go playlists. I'm bummed about the inscription.

Sunday I took Kevin to his last Sunday of skiing. Then I drove Fern to Sunday school, then I drove myself home for a shower, then back to church. After church Fern went to another friend's house for several hours and I quilted for a while and went to work on a problem.

I realized a couple days ago I kept waking up to the feeling of rolling. And I was rolling, right to the center of the mattress. Kinda like that old bed at your grandmother's or in-law's house that no-one sleeps on often and if they do, they don't complain it needs to be replaced. Our king-sized bed is too new to be sagging already, we just got it a couple years ago.

I look under the bed and notice all the center support legs were not where they were supposed to be, they were not supporting anything lying flat on the carpet. Their screws had pulled away from the wood cross-beam leaving big holes. And before you get any bright ideas on why the supports were not in place, we had the bedroom painted and painters must have drug the bed away from the wall instead of lifting it. Great. No easy fix, like just screwing them back in place.




Lying prostrate on my belly with the flashlight on the situation, I come up with a brilliant solution. I'd replace the legs.

How would you lift the bed so you could get under it? I got the hydraulic car jack from the trunk and lugged it upstairs, but the edge of the bed is too low to slide the jack under. So I jacked up the end of the bed and stuck the jack box under the side so now I could get the jack under the side. With the bed up in the air I was able to retrieve broken legs. Eight and three quarters inches long.

After a quick trip to Home Depot and the help from Henry, I got a 4x4 post cut up into pieces the right length.

I figured a post this size had little chance of falling over because of the larger surface area holding up the bed frame. But I don't want the raw cut end sitting directly on the carpet. Another brilliant idea: cover the end of each post.

But how? Aha! I iron the viagra stuff (which has a fusible coating on each side) and a square of fabric to each post.
Back on my belly to place the posts right over the indentions in the carpet left by the previous supports, and TaaDaa!



After that, I slid everything back under there I've been hiding from the kids, like the hair clippers so Kevin doesn't shave himself bald, or the electric piano so I don't have to listen to the Beer Barrel Polka ever again.

Wonder if Dan will notice?
Yeah, I know he will after he reads this.

Attention Please

Have you ever wanted the undivided attention of someone? Or a large group?

Call a bingo game. The usual bingo game has numbers from B-1 to O-75, but I have a bingo-a-day calendar that has a smaller set of numbers. Not that I play bingo that often, but it was on clearance a few weeks ago, so I bought it. Every day has three game cards and 50 lift-a-flaps revealing random numbers to be called.

I took a stack of unspent days to the retreat with me and passed out a set of cards to everyone. Throughout the weekend I'd call a game for a door prize. I didn't know if it would be received well, if people would like to participate or not. I was nervous, my self esteem was waning. I took the chance and it paid off. The room was dead quiet, you could hear a pin drop and the crackle of cooling irons, as I called each number. You've never heard a gaggle of quilters that quiet.

On Sunday after the last game had been played I got lots of comments from people asking me to do that again next year, it was fun, and where did I get the calendar.

I was thrilled and my ego was happy. Yay.

Ice Day

School was closed today so I stayed home with the kids. I've finished reading a book, started a load of laundry, ran the dishwasher and not a lot else. Fern asked if she could make brownie batter. No. Fern then asked if she could make a batch of brownies. Yes. Then she still tried to sit on the sofa and eat the batter, I guess she thought I wouldn't notice. For a smart girl, she's pretty daft.

I'll have to check the traffic and weather later to see if I can go out. Dan left for Florida and Fern will be at a sleep-over, so I might take The Boy out to supper or the mall. Wonder what other trouble I can get into while the house is mostly empty?

Remembering

February 15th is not etched onto my brain the way July 7th or November 16th are. I missed my own blogaversary on Friday, two whole years, thank you very much. Maybe next year I'll remember. Three-hundred and ten posts in two years, not very many.

I'm thankful to of all you who stop by and see what's up in my little world. I'll try to post more often for you.

Retreat

The retreat is getting so far away, I'm having a hard time remembering specifics. But, I'll try. This year I arrived the earliest I've ever gotten there, about 1:00 Friday afternoon. A and L and I got our work space set up, three of us on two tables arranged in an 'L' formation, and I settled in on my first task: Girl Scout badges, I wanted to get my latest vest out of the way, so I could concentrate on other things.

This was A's first year, a retreat "freshman" as she called herself, and L's second year there. I was "Post-Doc" at 12 years. One of the so-called traditions is to make quilt blocks with the year's fabric, usually some hideous floral print that is hard to match and this year was no exception: a purple print with large blue and peach flowers. When all the blocks are made they are sorted into groups and "winners" are drawn, each person taking home a stack of 12 or so quilt blocks featuring fabric de jour.

Friday night's main activity is the Brown Bag exchange, which I was asked to run. Everyone brings a gift in the $10-$15 range in a brown bag, something a quilter would love. Everyone takes turns choosing a gift from the pile or stealing someone else's already opened gift. I brought a quilted tote bag I made with chili pepper fabric and red trim. I was thrilled when the person who drew my bag from the pile liked the tote and even more thrilled when someone else stole it away from her. One gift that got stolen a lot this year was a picture puzzle of a quilting scene. Who would have thought?

Saturday morning the mystery quilt team presented the mystery quilt directions. I'm glad I didn't participate this year. There was a lot of sewing. The people who did participate created beautiful tops, but I just wasn't in the mood this year. I, instead, worked on birthday blocks, several of us promised each other a quilt block of the birthday girl's choice and I finished and delivered two. Both were received well, owners thrilled, and my ego was pleased.

Saturday evening we have an auction, selling patterns, books, fabric, partially completed projects and abandoned supplies, anything we have lying around that we no longer need or want. I did very well this year, there were a lot of bargains to be had: I didn't buy anything.

Sunday is usually pincushion day. Each year we make different design. The first one was a chicken, and we also have made a crab, mouse, turtle, strawberry and a few others. This year was an Asian-inspired flower. Someone had a magazine with a duck pattern in it and that's when all the craziness ensued, I helped A put a thong bikini on Pinky (red ball head pins held the pink buttons inside the bathing suit top) and the Professor ended up with a necktie and crystal tie tack after we realized a speedo didn't look good on a duck. Even if it was enhanced a bit.

I haven't even mentioned the food table yet, long kitchen work table covered in all kinds of snacks, health and junky, salty and sweet, twizzlers and chocolate. Enough to feed a snowed-in army for a week, which it did a couple years ago, but not this year. I did my share of eating too much of the snacks and am over the Mendoza line to show for it.

Sunday night and Monday I worked on a small quilt and got a lot done. It is made from 6" squares we exchanged at our 2005 retreat. I had finished it into a top either last year or the year before and started quilting it this year. It's in the picture in the foreground on the table. I would have had more pictures to post if someone hadn't forgotten her camera.... Ahem.

Looking at this picture I just realized a lot of the projects people were working on had been taken off the walls already and walls are not as lively as they usually are.

Now it's back to the real world and putting away my projects until I can find inspiration to work on them.

Instead of a post recaping my weekend, I'm writing from the waiting room of the auto dealership waiting for the van to be repaired. On the way back from the retreat center yesterday the engine got rough and accelerated poorly. I wondered more than once if I was going to make it home. I thought I'd gotten a bad batch of gas so I put in a bottle of dry gas. It sounded and felt better on the drive to work this morning, so I was hopeful. Phil, the techno wiz-kid I work with, has a friend with a OBD gizmo and got the error codes for me. It wasn't good news. So, that's how I got here. Lovely. Just plain lovely.

This is what happens when you put 30 women in a room with little sleep and a bag of fiber-fil: Professor Moskovi of Duck U. & Pinky Tuskaducko.

I'm having fun here at the retreat, eating too much, and not getting near enough done.

Retreat Eve

Tomorrow is our guild's quilt retreat and I haven't packed. I don't even know what projects I'm going to work on.

If you're not a crafty person, it's kinda like leaving for a long vacation tomorrow and you don't know what towns you're going to so you don't know what to pack, beach or mountains, cold or hot?

I made a fabric valentine's day postcard for Fern and put it in the mail box yesterday expecting it to arrive today. Silly me, I mailed it from my mail box, so the mail man put a line through the stamp and put it back in our mailbox. D'Oh! so much for the surprise.

I'll post about the retreat on Monday, or from my phone if there's cell reception out there in the boonies.

Carry on.

Trying to be Creative

My mom never reads my blog, so I feel pretty safe in posting this picture. Her birthday is tomorrow and I made this fabric postcard for her last night. She loves daffodils and some times I can actually find them this time of year, but usually it's too early. I put this card in the mail this morning so she might get it tomorrow.



Friday starts our annual quilt guild retreat. I've decided not to do the mystery quilt this year. The fabric requirements are 240 7"x 1.75" strips, half in dark fabric, half light. I dunno, seems like too much cutting to me. I still have last year's mystery project to finish. That was the one I lead. I had prepared all the examples and just never put it together in the end.

I've been wandering around lately without a plan, without a clue, too, but mostly without a quilting plan. I have several unfinished projects that need my attention but nothing is really drawing me in, calling my name, wanting to be finished. I think that's why I'm having a hard time getting ready for the retreat. I don't know what to pack, I don't know what to take to work on, and I don't know what I want to finish.

I've glanced at my to-do list over there in the sidebar of my blog for inspiration, so maybe I'll start there when I pack. I have a long-standing list in my Palm, too, of things I take to the retreat center every year so I don't forget supplies, but I always manage to forget to put something on the list. I hate over-packing, it's just too much to carry in from the car and back, but I hate not having all that I might need. You never know when inspiration might strike and when it does you don't want to not have that perfect bit of fabric because it's a home.

Maybe I'll pack lightly and just take a couple books and knitting to my quilt retreat.

Notes on Other Topics

Thank you, Greeny for reminding us "Dame" is the female equivalent of "Sir" for being knighted. so, may I present to you: her royal knightress, Dame AM Kingsfield! TaDa!

Dame AM has my kids today since school is closed because of election day, proving her well deserved knightressness.

Just Me commented to me about me being in front of computers all the time and being anti-technology. To that I remind folks there is a big difference between a computer user and a computer programmer.

I'd like to post replies in the comments, do you go back and look? Are you used to that? Should I start?

OK, that's settled. I'll start posting comments, and you'll have to look back for my answer.

Weekend Roundup

1. I'll not do that again. I posted an entry from home on Thursday night and another one on Friday. No-one commented on the Thursday post for until AM did on Sunday afternoon. I don't write these for my health, you know. OK, I'll wait here while you scroll down and read it.
   
   Thanks.


2. Friday evening I picked up the car from the shop. $1300. Kevin made a beeline for the garage when I got home and made a comment about "...going to check on the green car...." All's right with the universe again.


3. Then I went to play Bunco with a bunch of quilters from my guild. I'd never played before. It's a simple, fun game with dice and partners, prizes are involved, usually money, we played for quilting stuff, like fabric and thread. You never have the same partner in consecutive rounds so you find yourself cheering against the very person one round whom you were cheering for in the previous. I came home empty handed. I ate a lot of fritos though, does that count?


4. Saturday, the usual kid-ferrying duties, lessons and the last practice for Fern's Ice skate team before the Valentine Invitational competition on Sunday, and Kevin to his swimming program. Fern needs a black skating skirt for her jump and spin team's costume. The pro shop doesn't have any her size and none even close.
   
   I bought a half yard of black swimsuit/dance fabric. I haven't sewn slinky knits like that in years and I start to panic about the skirt. At the same time a friend calls from my quilt bee about our bee meeting tonight. Do you know anything about knits? She did and I spent almost 3 hours at her house trying to make a black skirt for The Girl. It didn't turn out like I had envisioned, mostly because I measured her waist and she wanted it on her hips so the design had to be adjusted. She didn't think it would work.


5. Sunday, I got up early and drove to Target to look at their selection of dance wear. I found a black ballet skirt and bought it, even though it was very sheer and I didn't think it would work. Then I searched down into the depths of my fabric stash for black knit and found some. I made yet another skirt with a different design and The Girl asked if I could sew the two together. I did and it worked great.
   
   Kevin had to be at his ski program drop-off point at 9:30. Fern had a 10:00 call for her 11:20 Jump and Spin event. She had trouble with her change-foot spin, but landed her souchow beautifully. After her event we went for lunch, then back to the rink for the awards. Her team got third! Out of three teams. Her next call was at 3:00 for her 5:04 event for production team, so we went home for a break. I read some of my book and got so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open. So I took a nap. I don't usually take a nap so when Fern couldn't find me when it was time to go back to the rink, she checked the neighbor's house and called AM before she found me in bed.
   
   Kevin is supposed to be picked up from his ski trip at 5:30 so Dan and I debated which parent would see Fern skate and which parent will get The Boy. AM saved the day and picked up Kevin for us. That woman ought to be knighted. What is the female equivalent of "knighted," "lady-ed?" Ok, I'll just wait here while those of you who know and love her stop laughing.
   
   Seriously, what is the female equivalent of being knighted?
   
   Anyway, Fern skated wonderfully, thought her team should have won, but I told her about several of the little skaters who fell into a pile which she didn't know about. My throat always tightens up and my eyes start to sting when I see her on the ice. She's so beautiful. Yeah, I'm a biased mom, but there's biased mom and then there's a beautiful daughter. Her team took second! Out of three teams.
   
   Fern's team waiting to take the ice, Fern by the door
   
   

   
   JJ and Fern after the award ceremony



6. I thought I'd be home for the night after skating, but Fern asked me if she could go to the Town Hall meeting and see Hillary. Oh, all right. I had no first-hand information, no specifics. It was at Bowie State from 7:30 - 9:30 pm, very vague. My husband said follow the cars and you'll find it. Thanks. We got there at 7:30 and waited in line in 28° windy darkness for a half-hour before we got inside to the warm of purse searches and metal dectors. I still had no idea when the meeting was supposed to actually start, but 8:30 Fern was bored and tired and had a headache and wanted to leave and I held her off for another 30 minutes. Hillary and gang came out at 9:00. The county executive started his speech and I had the feeling I wasn't going to hear Hill for another 20 minutes. Fern was insistent so we left. I probably should have made her suck it up and stay, it would have been good experience, but I relented. She had had a long day after all. I hate the whole political thing anyway, so it wasn't too hard walking out. I'll pay more attention in November.
   
   
   From my seat before we left
   
   

Nothing Ever Goes as Planned

I got my new PC here at work on Wednesday. My keyboard, mouse and dual monitors all stayed the same. After the tech left, I logged in and found he hadn't set up my mail properly. The applications I could run, like my shell window interface and browser, were out of focus on the monitors. I left for the day.

When I got to work yesterday, I couldn't log in at all. After spending all morning on the phone with the help desk I got logged in and got to my mail. But the type face had changed, and combine that with the blurry monitors, I had a headache after a few minutes. Consequently, I could only work in short bits and didn't get a lot done all day until another tech guy came with a new video card in the afternoon. By then, the day was shot.

I'm still working through my different applications and getting my preferences set back to my preference, it's not what I really want to spend time on, but it's got to be done so I can be the exemplary efficient employee that I am.

On the upside, this machine is lightyears faster, I only have to wait about 4 minutes to boot up in the morning, instead of about 10. Oh, the joy!

Honesty or Carelessness?

I drive home from work these days at the beginning of dusk. It's plenty light enough at the start, but by the time I get home headlights are a necessity. I know it's time to turn them on when I have a hard time seeing my dashboard because the dashboard lights are connected to the headlights switch. Well past the time when headlight should be on, I see numerous cars driving around in the dark. Don't these dimwits have a clue?

The loud unpleasant noise emanating from the rear wheel of the van and the acrid hot smell lead me to drop the van off at the shop for repair. Last time we had the van in the shop, Kevin had a meltdown with the rental. He didn't want to ride in it and didn't want to have it parked in the garage.

This time I wrote out what was going to happen and had Kevin read it. "No blue car," he yelled. He remembered the last rental was blue. That child has an amazing memory. I explain it again, it's only temporary, the green car will be back, etc. He's still on the verge of a meltdown. I resort to one of the things moms know best: bribes. Do you want to ride with me and we can get Five Guys afterwards? On the way to the dealership I rehearse it again and again with him to the point where he can tell me about getting another car for a couple days. He was totally fine with the temporary car, this time a Nissan Versa and the ride home was uneventful.

Going home from work on Wednesday I notice my dashboard lights are on and I immediately check my reflection in the bumper of the car ahead of me, something I've gotten in the habit of doing because for some reason the headlights burn out on the van every year. No lights. I turn them on and realize how the dimwits drive around in the dark. This "feature" is not a safe one, that's for sure.

I wonder if there is a setting for the dashboard lights, I don't see button or knob. So at the next stoplight I reach for the owner's manual in the glove box. I like to look up silly stuff like that. Except the manual is not there, but a rental agreement from a previous renter is, complete with name, address, credit card imprint, expiration date, and signature.

I stare at this piece of paper with all the information I need to become Sra. Rodriguez. Wow.

The light turns green. I shove the paper back in the box and snap it shut and make a mental note to take care of my paperwork when I turn the car in.

Bigger. Faster. Shinier?

I'm getting a new computer this afternoon.

Wish me luck.

I hope all my "stuff" shows up on the new one.

Remind me to ask the tech about bookmarks.

sheesh.

If this is my last post, you'll know why.

Weekend Roundup

I thought I'd lost one glove from my favorite pair. Leopard print, fuzzy, warm. I couldn't find it anywhere. I started a mental list of everywhere I'd been on Saturday so I could start calling places and driving through parking lots looking for it. But it was in my bag the whole time, either hiding, or I only saw one at a time thinking it wasn't the other. I was quite relieved when I pulled both of them out Sunday evening.

Dan took Fern skiing Sunday, it was her first adventure on the slopes. They left before I had to drop off Kevin for his skiing program (different resorts so The Boy wouldn't catch sight of Dad and The Girl and have a meltdown) so I had most of Sunday to myself.

I spent the hour between dropping Kevin off and going to church cleaning out the van. Lawzy, what a mess. Three pairs of socks, three half-pairs of shoes, no less than 14 writing implements, fast-food french fry cartons, fast-food toys, three containers of sun screen, all different strengths (no, the van hadn't properly been cleaned out since summer vacation to the beach), a handful of change, and so on. Sheesh. Now it needs vacuuming. I'm thinking of either hiring a child to do it, or getting my oil changed at a place that will vacuum for me. Should find a coupon for that first, I hate paying full price.

After church, excellent sermon, by the way, I went to the spa/salon to use the gift certificate I won from the radio station in December. Originally I just booked a hair appointment. I specifically asked for someone with a lot of experience working with curly hair. I was given an appointment with Theresa at 2:00. Friday night they called me to confirm the appointment and offered me a facial appointment: one hour for the price of a half-hour, can you come at 12:45? Yes, that would be lovely.

After the facial I'm told Virginia will be right with me. Virginia? What happened to Theresa? I never did find out why there was a switch. Virginia quizzes me, as with any new client, what I want, how I want my hair to look.

I'm not fashion-forward, I'm not glamorous. I want someone to be able to look at me, look at my curly cow-lick-y mess and make it look great. I am also very low maintenance when it comes to hair: wash and go. That's it, no product, no blow-dry, no brush, just wash and go, bye-bye. So I need someone who can make my hair look great with no fuss. I explain this to Virginia and she was a little surprised I didn't have a style in mind except for "short and out of my face," and replies, "OK, that's easy."

As she's cutting, I can tell she's not taking the curls in to account, it's not going to dry well. She wants to cut it long in front of my ears, which, when it dries will look like wings flapping out of my head. I asked her how long she'd been cutting hair and she said two years. At that point I confirmed the feeling I was in the wrong chair. In the end, when the flapping was fixed, the cut wasn't bad, people tell me it looks fine, it's just a lot shorter than I wanted or expected, a lot, and it'll take a long time to grow out so I can do something else with it.

When I paid I was asked how everything was and I reiterated about the stylist switch and I wasn't happy about that. The chick behind the counter told me I could call in a couple days if I wasn't satisfied with the cut. It's not the cut I'm not satisfied with you moron!!!! I said OK, smiled and left. I haven't decided if I'm going to call again and complain. The cut was free, after all, as was most of the facial.

Sunday evening Kevin crashed after skiing and Dan & Fern went to their own super bowl parties so I had more quiet time to myself. I read my new book, Circle of Quilters by Jennifer Chiaverini and not much else. Didn't even turn on the game until the third quarter. Ended up winning $20 in a pool, though. Yay me.

Manners Please

My son is not a polite sleeper.

He is 15 and displays typical teenage behavior, staying up late on weekend nights and sleeps in. But because of his weekend activities, he cannot sleep in, but crashes afterward. This past Saturday night, maybe I should say Sunday morning, he went to bed sometime after 2:00 (after having gone to bed after 3:00 the night before). Then he got up for his skiing program at 8:30. When he got home, he put himself to bed, shoes and all, on his father's side of my bed. What is it about Mom & Dad's bed that is so appealing?

One of two things happen when he goes to bed so early. He'll either nap until bedtime then stay up for several hours after that playing computer games, or he'll sleep through until the morning, sometimes waking only for a shower and a glass of milk. Last night he didn't get up, he slept through.

Usually Monday's are the worse because all the sleep deprivation of the weekend catches up, he's asleep by 6:00 on my bed. We can't move him, like we could when he was a toddler, he's taller than we are now, and getting strong. We can't entice him to stay awake for his favorite supper so we can steer him to his own bed later. So Dan sleeps in Kevin's bed, for which I'm grateful, and I get to try to sleep next to The Boy, who is a major cover thief and I end up sleeping on top of the edge of the blanket, having it flip over me like a taco, so I can at least stay warm, but not too warm, thank you, I am approaching (gasp) 48. And, of course, when I do get too warm, he senses I've released the blanket and takes it. Not a polite sleeper, not at all.

Another day, another rambling

No-one bit on yesterday's Ferris Bueller reference. Oh well.

The kids had a 2-hour delay this morning, I guess because parts of the county had sleet & freezing rain and the roads were bad. We just had a lot of rain at our house. I got another couple loads of towels in this morning while I was waiting for the buses. The laundry pile is slowly shrinking. I'm almost down to "maintenance" level.

Lost went back on the air last night after a 8 month hiatus. Having Lost back really puts a hamper (ha ha) on my laundry accomplishments. And other household duties as well.

I'm glad Lost is back, I really like the show. Fern didn't like it when it premiered in 2004, it was too bloody. But now she's into it. I have a coupon for 40% off DVD sets at Borders so I guess I should get season three so I'll have a whole set so she can catch up with the whole story. Which means I need to track down season I lent to AM.

I read somewhere they only had eight episodes written before the strike started so I'm not sure how that'll play into the plan they made last year to have three more seasons in the show's run. Will they make a shortened season box set or will they wait for a full 16-episode season? I ponder the silliest things.

The strike is messing up a lot of things, not just my TV watching. All the folks with jobs in the TV business are out of work still, the caterers and the camera operators, and the like. I'm thankful I have a good job.

And now, I leave you with a photo I snapped the other morning on the way to said job. A storm front was rolling through and the clouds were awesome. Too bad I couldn't park and set up a tripod for a better shot.