Travel Log Part 5

On the road to the Adriatic coast, Croatia
20 March 2008

The road out of Zagreb was much too curvy to pull out the laptop and type this morning without getting carsick, it's better now but not by much. Yesterday was our day in Zagreb, the capital of Croatia, and when I saw our itinerery, I'd wondered by we were to only stay one night. Now I understand. It's a boring town. It's way south of the Alps so the terrain around the city is pretty flat, but the town itself was partially built on a hill (more hills and steps to walk up, oh my aching thighs). There's the upper town, the lower town and the "new" town across the Salva River. We left our tour group early (too much talking, not enough seeing) for lunch and to make our way back to the hotel on our own by way of the tram system. I like to try out local public transportation systems when I travel. It gives a glimpse of a place you don't always get to see from the comfort of a motor coach.

This morning we left Zagreb and headed to Plitvice lakes, I couldn't type and Fern stole the book I was reading, and I didn't feel like knitting, so I just looked at the scenery. Which was also kinda boring: snowy, barren land. I finally pulled out my iPod after our tour guide, Maja (my-a), droned on and on and on about the Croats, the Serbs, the Italians, and the Hapsburgs. It was interesting for about a minute.

Our first stop was the Plitvice lakes. The temperature this morning was about 3°C, maybe colder, so the walk around the lakes and falls was quite chilly. Fern forgot to set out socks with the rest of her clothes before the porters picked up the luggage from our rooms, so she bravely, her word not mine, trekked on the snow-covered boardwalks in her crocs and naked piggies. The falls were beautiful and I took lots of pictures. I even set the camera to B&W for some artsy shots. I can't wait until I can unload all the pictures onto the computer with the big screen and see where I've been.

Oh, now she's going on about the Serbian territory. Sheesh.

Our next stop was for lunch at what could be compared to as a truck stop diner (sorry John) with cafeteria-style Croat food. It scored very low on the price-tastiness scale.

Our tour group consists of 74 people on two buses. The buses depart about a half-hour apart from each other so we're not waiting for or stepping over 74 people, but only 35 or so. Oh, by the way, I was wrong, by a number of years, about the ages of some of the others in our group. There are a pair of girls in their late twenties, who like to travel while their peers just talk about going places; they appear to be the youngest after Kevin and Fern.

Rovinj, Croatia

The bus went from Plitvice to the coast, then along the A1A, as I call it, but the real route was the E65, the coastal road overlooking the Adriatic, finally ending up in Rovinj (ro-veen) at 6:30. We checked into our last hotel, the Hotel Eden, and signed up for 24 hours of Internet access for 100kn (kuna).

Travel Log Part 4

Ljubljana, Slovenia (lu-blee-YAW-na) 19 March 2008
On the bus from Bled to Zagreb, Croatia

The demographic of this tour group is interesting. It's not what I expected. I'm not sure what I did expect, but this isn't it. Fern is the youngest member of the group, followed by Kevin. I'm close to being the next youngest after that. There are several people in their 30's-40's, the rest, all older. My parents would have fit in nicely with this group. I kinda expected more families with kids. We chose this trip because it coincided with spring break and the price was about the same as a cruise. And, it's someplace we've never been. Different is always good when it comes to vacations. Or so I think now.

Casino Report:

Last night was Tuesday, a quiet night for restaurants in the U.S., and it seemed quiet for Bled, too. We ate dinner at the Panorama Restaurant, with a wonderful view of the lake, and were the only diners. Fern and I had different preparations of trout, Kevin had spaghetti carbonara and Dan had seafood risotto. The casino just happened to be on the way back from dinner and I just happened to have my passport with me to get in. Dan took the kids back to the hotel and I made my detour.

Roulette is pretty much universal. American and Caribbean casinos have 0 and 00, European casinos just have 0, but the rest is about the same. I made a loop around the place to check it out and noticed one roulette table was open and there was someone there playing already. I don't like to play alone, I like the camaraderie of fellow gamblers, cheering them on for numbers hit. I payed 20 euro for a stack of chips and joined the table. This other woman make no acknowledgment of my congratulations when the ball dropped into the slot with one of her numbers. I felt slighted at first but there is a language barrier so I wasn't offended long. She lost her money soon after that so I played alone. I tend to play conservatively, I wasn't out of chips yet and I wasn't ahead, so I kept going.

The wheel was cold, I like to play the "street," one chip to cover six numbers, so my numbers would hit a round too late, or I was off by one row. I had resigned myself to be just playing to play, not to win. I started betting on red or black and hit a couple times, but still I was down. I had 4 or 5 chips left and was mentally ready to leave when a new dealer came out to my table. Then it got hot. Needless to say, I have a lot more fun when the table is hot. I got up to over 30 chips, and after a few losing bets, I cashed in, mostly because no-one else had joined my table, I was still playing alone. Maybe gambling alone is like drinking alone? But I was 10 euros, $15 ahead, not a bad little detour after dinner.

Travel Log Part 3

Bled, Slovenia 18 March 2008

Our hotel rooms are typical European rooms, small, with two twin beds pushed together each with a thin mattress on a box spring-like base and a duvet on top. The toilet has a big flush button and a small flush button, you use whichever button corresponds to how much water you need. With all the talk in the US about water conservation, I don't know why we can't adopt this same system in America. I guess it makes too much sense.

Breakfast has typical European offerings: breads, sliced meats and cheeses, teas, coffee, fruits and tomatoes, which I know are really fruits, but are treated like vegetables. I won't go anywhere near what they call scrambled eggs or the sausages. I'm not that brave.

Last night we had dinner at a pizza place near our hotel. Another man from our group came in there too. It turns out he is an algebra teacher in California and we told him we have an algebra student. It was quite evident he enjoyed talking with Fern about her class and where they were in the curriculum and she enjoyed his questions and attention.

Dan's missing suitcase was delivered last night after midnight so he had his own clean clothes to change into this morning.

We spent today on a bus tour of the lake area of Austria with a long stop in Klagenfurt (klagen-foot) and shorter stops in Velden and Kranjska Gora (kranska gora) and views of Woether Lake. It was snowing this morning in when we left Bled but it wasn't snowing on the other side of the Carinthian Alps. However, it was cloudy and overcast so we didn't get full panoramic views of the mountains.

When we had our free time in Klagenfurt, Dan lamented having his suitcase back for a brief moment after seeing all the shops with clothes on display in the pedestrian shopping area. Velden sits at one end of Woether Lake, a cute town, but not as picturesque because as I imagine it could be if not for the clouds. Kranjska Gora was the smallest of the three towns, but "famous" for the skiing area, some slalom championships were held there a few weeks ago, the season is almost over now, not many people were on the slopes.

We haven't had too much trouble with the language differences. Usually the store clerks speak enough English to help me buy something. Credit cards, different matter. I tried my Visa today at one shop which only took Maestro, a MasterCard family card. I found an ATM that took Visa and was able to pay in cash. It's a fine science, figuring out how much money you'll need till you leave the country so you're not stuck with a pocket full of euros when you move on to Croatia but still have enough to buy a cappuccino when you want. The prices are reasonable when you think of euros as dollars, but when you throw in the exchange rate... well, just don't think about it, you're on vacation.

We'll walk over to the main town area of Bled (the hotel is about a ten minute walk along the late away) for dinner tonight and I might venture back out later for a visit to the casino. Love me some roulette. I'll deal with exchanging the euros to kuna later.

Tomorrow we ride to Zabreb, I'll post again when I have an Internet connection for the laptop.

BTW, Slovenia = Alps = hills = my thighs are killing me.

Travel Log Part 2

Bled, Slovenia
17 March 17, 2008

This morning we spent touring the Bled Castle that sits about 400 ft above the lake and was built about a thousand years, no I'm not kidding. This afternoon I've been putzing around the village, shopping and looking for sundries to replace the ones in the missing suitcase.

Fern and I discovered free Internet connection at the Hotel Park. Now Fern just wants to hang out here in the lobby, sipping cappuccinos and surfing the 'net.

More later when I can get the laptop back from her.

I'll try to upload some pictures, too.

Travel Log Part 1

Bled, Slovenia 16 March 2008

Forty-three bags were left in Madrid instead of going on to Venice with their people. About half the España Balonmano (Handball Spain) team, what looked to be a large group of mostly teen-aged boys, were left standing at the carousel looking forlorn without their bags, about half of our family was without our belongings as well. Luckily, there was no line, so I hopped over to the lost luggage desk quickly to report our "red 22" (pick the style from this chart, please) bag was missing. The clerk confirmed it was still in Madrid and would be sent on the later flight this evening. I gave her our hotel address and we should have the suitcase tomorrow, fingers crossed. We met our tour guide and boarded our bus and rode about three hours from Venice. The Venice-Slovenia border is now open, as of January 1st this year, but we will have to go through border control when we go to Croatia on Wednesday.

On the flight over, which departed at 10:00 p.m, we were served dinner at 12:30 and breakfast a few hours later. I wasn't hungry but ate anyway because we didn't know about the food situation for the rest of the day.

When we arrived in Madrid, we went through "borders" and tried to find out what gate to go to. It wasn't on the board of departures. So, of course, we didn't know what terminal to go to but all EU flights were in one building, so we found our way.

We made it to our hotel at about 8:00 pm and had dinner. I'll write more later when I have time.

Bucket List

Do you have a bucket list? I don't have one per se, just a vague wish-list of travel destinations. Austrailia, Greece, Scandinavia. I have no desire to bungee off a bridge or surf Maui.

Thinking about speech class and Mrs. Boyd the other day got me to thinking about my knot of friends from that class. The four of us, Jim, Ron, J and I would hang out together, go off campus for lunch and talk endlessly about who knows what. J was my best friend from back then. I met her in my English Composition class (ENG 206) and we got along like peanut butter and jelly. Our instructor was A. Perry Whitmore, our silly school-girl emphasis on "A" always made us giggle. Like all college students I've ever known, we were full of inside jokes and would finish each other's sentences. We also shared a love for Dixon Ticonderoga 1388 #2 pencils, the best pencils ever, and a love for horses. For PE credits we took a horseback riding class, and ended up volunteering at the farm on weekends for riding groups. Oh, what fun times.

I left Urbana after two years and transferred to VCU. She stayed and graduated from there with a degree in graphic design (I think), then woke up one day ten years later and wanted to be a dentist. She got into OSU and now she has a dental practice in Kettering, Ohio.

We've kept in touch on an off over the years, not nearly as well as intended. Anyway, since I'd been thinking about her and speech class I called her on my way to work yesterday. No answer at her office (closed on Fridays) so I tried her cell. When she answered, I told her why I called, that I was thinking about her and school. Funny thing was, she has also recently been thinking about our speech instructor as well as thinking about me. We swapped memories for a few minutes and I said we needed to see each other more often.

Then she told me her news: stage 3 breast cancer was discovered in January. It might have spread into her hips which makes it stage 4. Sheesh. My neighbor, L, is recovering fantastically from her mastectomy done last fall. I can only hope and pray J's recovery is that successful. If the cancer has gotten into her hip, she'll start on her bucket list.

I tried to stay positve during the phone call, but my eyes wouldn't stop leaking after I hung up, hoped they weren't too red when I got to the office.

The above post was sent from my iPhone, please excuse typos, misspellings, and lack of a final edit.

Oh, Not Again!

On the packing list for spring break is the Nintendo DS we got Kevin for Christmas. The plan was to take it with us to keep The Boy occupied on long stretches of travel.

We can't find it anywhere. Kevin was playing with it a week or two ago and probably put it "away" to hide it from Fern and me, we both love to play too. I'm pretty sure the charge was running low and instead of bringing it back to plug in, he might have stashed it somewhere "safe." You've heard me whine about lost things before (like here and here). I hate it.

I've scoured the living room where I'd seen it last. I've looked in his room where he puts his iPod when he's done listening or it's run out of juice, under his bed, under the couch cushions, even his underwear drawer. Everywhere.

We have less than two days to get our things together and packed. I'm racking my brain: what else can we pack for Kevin's travel bag and where can that darn DS be?

SPE 201

I think Mrs. Boyd would be pleased.

Linda Boyd was the Speech and Drama instructor at Urbana College, which is now Urbana University (I'm not sure when or why the name got changed, but it did) which is in the booming metropolis of Urbana, Ohio, population 11586. I started my college life there, partly because my grandmother taught there (biology and botany), but also because I got accepted there (if you know what I mean). It's a teeny tiny liberal arts school in central Ohio, north of Dayton. When I was there, there were less than 200 resident students and I knew most of them. There are about 1500 students enrolled there now, and they even have a graduate school. Who knew.

Because the school was so small, it was easy to participate in activities like the annual drama productions. I was part of the ensemble casts of Bye Bye Birdie and South Pacific which Linda directed. She was one of those great teachers, the kind you wanted to take all of her classes and to do well for, she was vivacious, fun, spunky. I'll always remember her with bleach-blond hair in her snug jeans and white Keds. She also directed the pep band and we played at the basketball games. Of all my years in college, I guess many of my fondest college memories revolve around things in which she was involved.

In the spring of my second year at Urbana I took Speech 201 from her. It was a great class and of course I got an A. I remember one exam. It was open-book and you had of choice of questions to answer, something like answer any eight of these ten. One asked for two types of persuasive speeches and I still remember the answer. Maybe I remember because it's just one of those things you remember, or maybe it was because Linda told me after class no other student had opted to answer that one, and she was proud of me. I thought it was an easy question. To persuade someone of something, and to change their mind about something. Easy.

Linda died much too early, if you ask me. I can't even remember how long ago now, maybe 10 years. I happened to be out in Ohio visiting my grandmother one weekend, the same weekend as the funeral. I went to the funeral home for the visitation, and was so depressed to see her lying there. The make-up artist got her coloring all wrong so in addition to being dead, she also looked sick. All the life and vitality she once exuded was gone.

This post started out to be about the persuasive speech I gave last night for the Parks and Planning Commission about the therapeutic programs Kevin participates in and enjoys and what else I'd like to see them do for us, and has instead turned into a memorial of sorts. Linda, I miss you. Thanks for everything. It went well last night.

Weekend Roundup

There's not a lot to round up from this weekend, blogger was misbehaving, my daughter was, well, shall we say, being a new "teenager."

If I had to recap my weekend in one word, it'd have to be laundry.

Our laundry room is a small space off the second floor hallway. The washer and dryer face each other with a space in between where we dump our clothes to be washed. I'm proud to say I got all the way down to the floor. I even used a hanger to dig out all the escaping socks from underneath the washer. Usually when I do laundry I start at the top of the pile and pick out all the clothes I can find of the selected color family, do a load, then pick off the next major color category, jeans, khakis, reds, etc. A couple loads every weekend usually keeps the family going. The little items usually slip to the bottom as I pick out each load and it might be a month or more before I get around to doing my "favorite" load: the dark socks. Everybody's got'm, my dress socks, my husband's dress socks, my daughter's skate socks. Fun indeed.

I keep the utility laundry behind the bedroom door, towels and sheets, the big stuff. I only did one load of utility wash this weekend and I probably will get another load in tonight while I'm still in the mood to get it done. Now if these people would stop taking showers and wearing clothes, there wouldn't be laundry to do.

But, on a happier note, we have less that a week to go before spring break. Dan's posted a map of our trip on his blog, please stop by to see it. I won't be redundant and post the same thing here.

Jeopardy!

 
AT&T for $5, please Alex.

You need this to add a feature to your cell phone service on-line.

What is my password?

That is correct, select again.

Amazon for $30.32, please Alex.

You need this to make your purchase.

What is my password?

That is correct, select again.

eBay for $77.83, please Alex.

You need this to sign-in to eBay.

What is my password?

That is correct, select again.

PayPal for $77.83, please Alex.

You need this to pay for your winnings on eBay.

What is my password?

That is correct, select again.

AmEx for $500, please Alex.

You need this to make an on-line payment.

What is my password?

That is correct, select again.

Passwords for $1000, please Alex.

This is the key to your life.

What is ***********?

Oooh, I'm sorry, that's incorrect.

Pardon me while I take a moment to be overwhelmed...

OK.

I'm not exactly freaking out yet, but I'm starting to get anxious.

Spring Break. Less than two weeks away.

The travel documents came yesterday, which, without a true airline ticket anymore, amount to the itinerary and luggage tags.

Driving to Florida for a cruise is one matter, where you can stop at any Target or Walmart on the way and buy what you need. Flying to Europe and back on long flights is a completely different matter. Try going into a foreign land with a foreign language and asking for contact lens solution. Best not forget it in the first place (Fern).

I gotta buy some quart sized zip bags so the security guys will be nice to us. I gotta find mini shampoo bottles, enough for everyone.

I know I'm going to forget stuff. So I'm getting anxious about trying to remember it all now before it's too late.

I bought a new memory card for my camera. And extra batteries, too. I bought a solar charger for cell phones and iPods.

Oh, and laundry. I have to find that balance of washing clothes to pack and washing clothes to wear in the mean time.

And what to pack anyway? That kinda depends on the weather. And weather can be temperamental in mid-March. Don't want to over pack, but don't want to be spending time in foreign laundromats, either. I gotta pack the correct weight coat so I won't freeze or smolder. How many pairs of shoes? Do I even mess with "dressy?"

Got to come up with portable activities to keep the kids occupied. Got to set aside books and/or knitting for myself.

Did I remember the camera? Should I take the non-digital Nikon and film, too. With all the lenses. Tripod either way. Polarizer filter too.

eye yai yai.

Thank you for enduring this little moment of anxiety.
I'll write all this down in a notebook, before I forget.
But first, I have a killer headache and need to go get a coke.

Travel pillows for the plane?
And a copy of The Blade.....

Weekend Roundup

Kevin, my sweet boy, has such a contented nature about him. For the most part, he is very patient and compliant, (except when he can't find one of his precious letter Y's or wants the ceiling fan on,) I call him my gentle giant. When I ask him to do something, like "put your plate in the dishwasher," I get a sing-songy "oh-kay" in reply.

His autism turns his communications into echolalia, his room into a sanctuary for thousands of plastic alphabet letters, and his teenage years with crazy sleeping patterns into a non-competitive happy child.

Sunday was a St. Mary's Special Olympics event for basketball, one of the qualifiers required for the state competition in two weeks. The venue was about an hour south of Bowie in rural southern Maryland. I got to take Kevin this time, Dan usually gets the honor. Kevin participates in the individual skills competition, because, despite his height, he doesn't have the basketball concepts or concentration to play on the 3v3 team.

The athletes complete three skills activities, 10-yard dribbling "dash," bounce-passes, and shooting. Each of these earned the athletes points and the medals were give out for the points totals in each heat.

During the awards I watched three young women get their medals. The bronze was awarded first, then silver. The third girl stood there waiting, gears clicking into place, then she broke out into the most joyful squeal when she figured out she got the gold. It's hard not to smile along with her when you witness such pure glee.

Kevin did well, as he always does. Without the underlying competitive current, he has no expectations, he just enjoys being there and being with the other kids. I was a smidge disappointed he was the only boy in his heat, but I was glad to hear he got 68 points, so the automatic gold was well deserved.


Yes, it went in.

I guess I should write a post so y'all know I'm alive.

I've been walking around in a fog lately, this cold isn't quite gone, doing a bit of house work here and there, but I can't come up with any earth-shattering news to share.

Unless you want to know my little brother called me the other day. (The short one, not the younger one.) Yes, while that, in it of itself is newsworthy, he wanted me to know he had the whole town of Culpepper laughing. Huh? He had his whole office reading my bed-fixing post, it was very Jeff Foxworthyworthy: You can tell you're a redneck if you use the car jack to lift your bed...

Ok, Little Brother, it's not that funny, even if I add: ...so you can reach the bottle of juice you hid from the revenuers.

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.

This is the last time ... I promise

I was going to drop this subject about the Proclaimers because three recent posts is enough, and if you don't care, then it's down right boring, but I found this video and I couldn't help myself. It's cute if you're a HP fan. (This is the first time I've embedded a youtube video! yay me!)



But then, I just can't leave you with that video and walk away. If you know any of their music, it's that song. So, to expand your horizons, I give you this video of theirs, not a illegally recorded concert video or an animation done by someone who needs a life.



Now I have to come up with a topic to bore you with next week. Anyone? Anyone?

More on Yesterday

My new copy of This is the Story (1987) by The Proclaimers didn't come from Amazon yesterday. (I did find the catalog I was looking for, however.) I opted to pay for shipping, instead of going with the cheaper slower option, so I wouldn't have to wait so long, but I'm still waiting. Without the CD I can't have "my boys" on my iPod, but I can still listen to them from my computer's library in the mean time.

Yesterday I was poking around on the Internet and found their web site, some videos, and an audio clip of a BBC Radio Scotland interview with the Proclaimers. Craig and Charlie Reid have very thick Scottish accents so I had to listen it very closely to understand what they were saying. They also sing with these accents and make no effort to sing without them. (When I listen to their songs, I'm drawn in to the whole sound and energy of each song, then read the liner notes later to figure out what they are singing.) They said in the interview when asked why they chose to sing in broad Scots, "...if Americans and English and Irish and Jamaicans can sing in their own accents, then so could Scots."

I don't know about you, but I do not have an accent.

I Found It. And I Found It Again.

I was looking through my desk this morning for a catalog I remembered seeing when we packed and moved offices last year. I haven't found the catalog yet, but I did find the CD I'd lost. It was in a zip bag of CD's and liner notes, none of them matching each other. Of course.

I'm sure since I found this today, the new one I ordered from Amazon will be waiting for me when I get home. Isn't that the way is always is?

The back of the CD is badly scratched and not playable in many places. I've been listening to it anyway through my computer and have been enjoying my long-lost child. I better save this in case the new one never comes, right? I clicked "rip" to save it and it had been in the library on my computer the whole time. D'oh!

I am not my mother

When I was a kid...

If the butter was cold I'd scrape the top of the stick with the knife into curls thin enough to spread on my toast leaving rows of concave trenches along the creamy yellow bar. This would irritate my mom to no end. Thou shalt not mutilate the butter.

Or I'd pick up the stick of butter and swipe it across my toast. Leaving crumbs, of course, on the end of the stick. And again, "Who did this to the butter!"

Or I'd put the butter plate in the microwave to soften it so I wouldn't leave the telltale deep plowed furrows or even crumbs. Except it'd melt into a puddle. No escaping now.

Thirty-some years later the butter in my house is always a mess, and I don't care. The bath towels are not folded lengthwise perfectly in thirds, then in half and half again making identical stacks that fit precisely in the color-sorted linen closet. There are at least seven loads of laundry waiting to be done, probably ten, in the laundry room and quasi-sorted in piles on the hall floor. And I don't have the foggiest notion what's for dinner next week.

I'm glad the butter is a mess, it makes me smile.

Shoot Out

Did you see the moonrise last night? In my neck of the woods, it was gorgeous! It was a brilliant, red, not-quite-full, waning gibbous hanging just over the horizon behind the bare trees; breath-taking. Truly.

When I see the moon like that I want to take a picture of it. Therein lies the problem, run-of-the-mill digital cameras can't handle moonscapes well because of the dark sky and you're left with an out of focus grainy blob. That happened Tuesday. I was driving around town and saw the moon, grabbed my camera and took this shot. I started to set the exposure and shutter manually to do the shot properly, but by then the clouds had rolled in.



When I see the moon like that, the photographer (of a long time ago) in me yearns for film, a long lens and time to do it justice. Good pictures of the moon just don't happen. The nice thing about the moon, it's always full again next month.

Last Friday a front came through and brought a little precipitation with it. It was late in the day so the sun was pretty low on the horizon when light broke through the clouds and created a rainbow in the eastern sky. I tied to capture it from the office window and got this shot.



The rainbow, another challenge in photography, is hard to see, but it's there. You can also see the progress in the landscaping. It's not much, but you can see they've been working on the "3" at the far end of the walkway to join the "4" and the "2." (Previous views here.) Close-up of the rainbow's end:

Back Into the Swing

I guess I don't have enough of one thing for a post so I'll just summarize a bunch of things.

Went to Church on Sunday. After the sermon, a woman from our choir stood up to talk about MLK. She had been a student in Montgomery in the 50's and worked on campus in the admissions office. A frequent visitor to another woman in that office was a dashing polite man. She inquired of her colleague who that was and was introduced to Dr. King on his next visit to the office. After that he always greeted her and asked how she was. Later, this woman needed a new job and Dr. King was looking for a secretary at his church and offered her the job. She turned it down because she didn't think she could do the job to his expectations and maintain her studies. Sometime after that, the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church was bombed during the bus boycott. She still wonders what would have happened if she had taken the job. She went on with her story about her friendship with Dr. King. While she spoke I was made painfully aware how much I didn't know about Dr. King and how much he did for the people of our country.

After the touching speech by the woman in our own congregation, I was agreeable to going the the MLK inter-faith memorial service on Monday with AM. This, unfortunately, was boring. The person introducing the keynote speaker spoke almost as long as the speaker himself. While the main address was informative, it wasn't nearly as moving as the presentation the day before. And it ran long. The cool part of the service was the opening prayers in the Jewish and Islamic traditions, not something usually heard in the Presbyterian church.

---

Back in December I won some prizes from my husband's sports-talk radio station. Business hours to pick up the prizes correspond with my work hours so I've been prizeless. Monday afternoon I realized they might be open on my day off, and they were. I made the hour drive up the pike and collected my loot.

While I was up in that neighborhood, I stopped at one of the fabric meccas in the area, G-Street Fabrics. I had two items I wanted to shop for: a printed sweatshirt fleece and zipper slides for the massive amount of bulk zipper tape I have. The zipper tape is pretty useless if you can't zip or unzip it. The sweatshirt fleece collection was a big disappointment, they just had pastel solids, no cool prints. Oh-for-one.

The lady in the notions department got me a slider, but the sample of tape I brought was separated at the end. The clerk kept saying the one she got out was the right size and I kept trying to try it out to make sure it worked. She kept saying it wouldn't work because the zipper was already separated, but it was the right size. She wrote the ticket for 1 and slid it across the counter to me. I told her I needed 10. She was very surprised, but counted out 10 and added a zero to the ticket. She couldn't get rid of me fast enough. I have to open up the zipper tape a little to get the slider on, I don't know what her problem was. When I got home I cut another piece of zipper tape and tried out my new sliders. Wrong size. They would open the zipper, but wouldn't close it back. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH. Oh-for-two.

I called the store and explained what happened to the person who answered.
We don't do phone refunds.
I don't want a refund, I want to exchange these for ones that fit.
Please hold.
I'm now on the line with the notions department manager. I explain again. And how I felt rushed. I don't want a refund, can I mail these to you and you send me the correct size? Yes. Yay. I put the wrong sliders and a sample of my zipper tape in the mail yesterday, hopefully I'll get order back on Friday or Saturday.

A couple years ago I bought a spool of bulk zipper tape with the idea of making bags, like clutches and small purses. I never found the sliders I needed so I never succeeded with the project. Now I'm so close. I'll start taking orders when I get the sliders that work.

---

Last night Dan and I went out to the Rams Head again, this time to see Lori McKenna. It was a good show, even bought her CD on the way out. We left the kids by themselves and things seemed to have gone alright. But I got to bed late and now I'm tired. I need a nap.

---

Maybe that wasn't much of a good summary.

MIA

I hate when things are missing.

I've been listening to The Proclaimers on my iPod recently, a Scottish rock/pop duo. They are twins who have great harmonies, fabulous vocals, jangly guitars, and write fun lyrics. You might know I Wanna Be (500 miles). Most of the songs fall into a couple categories: love songs (Let's get married, I love ya and I wanna stay with ya/ have kids and grow gray with ya/ hold hands when we walk in the park/ oh, alright, you can have a cat as long as it barks), or drinking songs (The drink that I had three hours ago/ has been followed by 14 others in a steady flow). There are societal/political songs and a couple covers in the catalog too. One of my favorite songs is in a subset of love songs, songs about sex, called Oh Jean. It has a strong driving beat and a catchy chorus and it makes you wipe your brow at the end. Whew.

As I'm listening to my iPod I realize I'm missing one (or more) of the CDs, there songs I know but aren't listed. They aren't in our iTunes music library. So I go searching through all the CDs binders in the house to find them. No luck. I search all those stacks of plastic cases that have gotten shoved aside into nooks no-one knows about. I've looked in the kids' rooms. I've looked on the visor holder in the car. I've looked in the CD tray in the stereo we never use anymore. I've looked in the binders of software discs. Nada. Absolutamente nada.

Where's my copy of This is the Story? AAAAAAAAAAAAARG. (And no, it's not with my channel-locks, I looked.)

I hate it when I can't find something. Drives me absolutely nuts. Maybe I should call ahead now for a room (with a view, of course) at St. E's.

Must get CD! Must get it now.

iTunes doesn't have it.
The library doesn't have it. (Should be filed between Prince and Queen, by the way.)
Border's doesn't have it.
Nor does Barnes & Noble.
A quick trip to bestbuy.com is fruitless.

Looks like Amazon is my only choice. Can I wait that long? There's a holiday on Monday to slow down shipping. sheesh.

Must find that CD.
Must find it now.

Time for Launch

I'm happy it's Friday.

Not because it's the end of a hard work week and I need a break. It has been a hard week, two of my big products are being released today. Yesterday at 4:30 we were still having trouble with some of the underlying software. That was after I found some other problems earlier yesterday. One of these two clients (a new one this year) hadn't tested his parts enough and had questions for my other (experienced) client, who in return asked me. So I had things to tweak at the last minute.

And this morning I was still making other adjustments that came to light when I got in to the office. I have now pushed everything, all corrected versions and clean data, out to the production system. (And, thus, taking a blog break.)

I've done this before, this is my third year for one of these products, it's not a big deal. Usually. But this year we've changed both the underlying software to a completely new version (kinda like a XP to Vista change, but I hate Microsoft so I don't like using that analogy, but it's the best I've got at the moment), and a new Blade web server, (from a Sun machine, if you care). So a simple deployment of this product this year is complicated by all the new variables — on my part as well as all my clients' parts. I hope it works.

I've got two more deployments next Friday, and five more a week or two later. In February I'll need to have another product ready for usability testing, and in March I'll be migrating one or two more products to the new system. If all the prep work has gone smoothly, they'll get migrated while I'm on spring break with the family on the Dalmatian Coast.

While I'm glad I've got these products released today and I've got a break before I need to make sure next week's releases are ready, and working, and tested for goodness sake, I'm happy it's Friday for a completely different reason:

Tonight Friday Night Lights is on. It has become one of my favorite TV shows, certainly my favorite drama. Yeah, it's a show about high school football in Texas, but not really. It's about people and relationships, parents and children, murder and drugs. The characters aren't the usual perfect Full House-esque sit-com people, they have real issues.

We interrupt this post to bring you this:
Speaking of real issues, my supervisor just came to tell me he couldn't get any of the PDF's to open. The ones that are supposed to be in production today. sheesh. I can. Let me figure this out.

All fixed, where was I? What was wrong?
Oh, the default pdf wasn't declared so anyone using a test account printing a pdf would get a failure message. It wouldn't have been a problem in production because the users have that defined.

Anyway, Friday Night Lights, great show. I like the way the parents interact with each other and with the kids, the coach and his team. The conversations seem real, the writing is good. I look forward to watching it every week (I'll ask Dan "Are the panthers playing tonight?" instead of asking if it's on) and I'm into it to the point of standing and cheering when "our Dillon Panthers" are running in for a touch-down as if I were at the game in person. But it's really not about football. Give it a try, Fridays at 9:00 on NBC.

Let's Eat

I was lying in bed last night thinking of different things so I wouldn't think about the fact I was not yet asleep, and one of the things I tripped over was vegetables.

My son now likes broccoli. This is fabulous. This is fabulous because it's not a "white" food. For so many years he just ate pale food: french fries, grits, french fries, hot dogs, chicken nuggets with ranch dressing, french fries with ranch dressing, spaghetti-n-sauce. Not red sauce.

Early on in my marriage I found a recipe on the back of a box of tortellini for cream sauce. It's been a family staple ever since. The boy loved it then. And still does.

Nowadays, he "helps" me cook the sauce, he has to stir the sauce and control its destination, meaning it had to all go on his plate. Which meant I'd have to make another pot for the rest of us. In recent weeks he's understanding the concept of sharing the sauce and will pour some on each person's plate when it's time to serve.

The other night Dan and The Girl went to see the Wizards beat the Celtics (Yay!) and The boy and I had a dinner of spaghetti-n-sauce and broccoli. He at the broccoli first. I couldn't believe my eyes. This is like the day when your kid ate the chicken nuggets first before the french fries, except better.

Spaghetti-n-Sauce

• Fix your favorite pasta according to the directions


• in a small sauce pan, i prefer a heavy non-stick pan, over med-low heat, melt a couple tablespoons of butter. (probably 1 per person, I never really measured and the original recipe is long gone.)


• stir in a couple ounces of parmesan cheese. I usually use shredded, but grated (yes, the stuff in the green can) melts faster.


• don't get the butter too hot or you'll fry the cheese instead of melt it. (which, is itself a yummy treat, but not our goal here)


• when it's all melty, like a big mess and you wonder if you're doing it right, add a couple ounces of cream. stir until smooth. I use a wooden spoon. I sometimes have to raise the heat to get the cheese to melt smoothly. If it's too thin, add more cheese and keep stirring. It should be thick like a good hollandaise, but not able to sit upright on its own plate.


• pour over your pasta or put the pasta in the sauce to mix, then serve

It's not bad over broccoli, either.

Another Boring Post

My life is so boring right now I'm posting about passwords, for goodness sake. Sheesh. I got nuttin. No current construction projects. The painters came to work on the kitchen a couple weeks back so it's about done except for some trim work. I'm not working on any quilting projects, although I have a lot unfinished that could use some attention. I haven't knitted in weeks and still have that green sweater part-way done. You can see where this is going. Well, it's not going anywhere, really. I'm stagnant.

The other night I was boxing up some old software to Freecycle and found a disk I remembered fondly. Explore the Airport with Buzzy the Knowledge Bug A MAC/WIN software disk by Random House, 1995. Most of it is very juvenile, aimed at your average 5 year-old. Except for a game where you sort luggage into color-matching bins using reversing conveyor bins. The first 20 or 30 levels are no-brainers, very easy, then it got tricky, tricky enough to hold my attention. For a long time.

Well anyway, I found the disk and last night I put it in a couple different computers to see if it would work again and had success with the Toshiba laptop. I got up to level 49 before The Boy commandeered the computer. When I went to bed he was on level 61. This morning I opened the game to check his progress and he made it to level 84 before he went to bed. 84!

That's my boy!


Post Script: I checked my posting on the other laptop and this picture didn't come across. That's so weird! Oh well. I hope you can see it.

The key is under the doormat

I work for a governmental agency which collects and tabulates data about citizens and businesses all over the country. These data are confidential so we have very secure computer systems. To get my PC booted up in the mornings I am prompted to key in five passwords at different points, the whole process takes about ten minutes.

A couple weeks ago a new requirement came down the line: we are now required to have a twelve character password for our main system. And it cannot be based on any word in any dictionary ever printed in any language, backwards or forwards. It has to have alpha characters, numeric characters and special characters. This was supposed to take effect next time your password was up for changing. So I tricked the system to let me use my ten-digit password for another month by changing it the day before the new requirement was to kick in. Pretty sneaky, huh? Except yesterday I got a message on login saying all my grace logins had expired and I had to change my password right then and there. What? So much for tricking the system.

Twelve characters.

Sheesh.

Next month it'll be 30 characters, I'm sure.

In His Element

Catching Up

I started a new post last week and just never got around to finishing it. I've left it at the bottom of this one.

This weekend was a big one for my son. On Friday, he got to go to the greatest place on earth. And no, it wasn't HOM¹. We made our semi-annual trip to Great Wolf Lodge in Williamsburg, land of indoor water slides. He had a good time. I'll post pictures when I can download them from my camera, I don't have a cable with me now. He's grown so much over the last year, he's easily identifiable from a distance. He's tall and scrawny. I saw him from across the water park carrying his tube up the steps to the slide. His profile took me instantly back to when I was a kid and my brother walked the same way.

Sunday, my son went skiing for the first time. He's participating in a skiing program for Special Needs Teens and Adults. For five weeks they take the skiers up to Liberty for the day, give the participants rental equipment and a lesson. One of the staff members told me when we picked him up last night, Kevin didn't follow instruction very well, he made no turns, just went straight down the mountain. I'm going to have to send a camera next week just so I can see him out there. I don't ski. I've tried a couple times in my life and I just don't have a fondness for that much snow in my face. Or my face in that much snow.

Last Thursday's Post

I've been contemplating new year's resolutions. I always want to do better, be better, but to actually declare a resolution to the world feels like I'm being set up for failure.

I need to resolve to be a better housekeeper and parent, which are the means to the end of being a better wife. Or is it the other way around?

I know better than to set the bar too high, but I still need to have goals. I've already mentioned balancing the checkbook. I paid some bills last night and wrote them down, even though some were paid on-line.

I need to remember to get a load of laundry through the whole cycle so I don't have to wash stuff over again that sits in the washer too long. Dernit, there're loads in the washer and dryer I need to move. Wonder if I'll remember to do that when I get home? I need to take care of my own clothes and get around to purging the clothes I haven't worn this century.

I need to plan meals better so we don't resort to delivery pizza and Chinese 4 times a week. Wednesday, I subscribed to a menu service for three months. I'm afraid no one else will be on board with me about it and I'll end up doing all the cooking and eating, they'll veto the menu and we'll end up having the same three dishes over and over all year.

I need to keep the paper piles down on my desk at work. So I can find things. And get work done.

I need to remember to take my new ADD med to help me remember to do all the things listed above. I finally went to see a psychiatrist and now I have no excuses.

Then, in the middle of all this contemplating, I get an email from my daughter's algebra teacher, two days into the new quarter, mind you:

Just as a "head's up", I wanted to let you know my findings about Fern's performance in Algebra. I honestly don't think unless the pressure is on, that she is doing what is necessary to earn passing grades in this class....

Last quarter Fern could have done much better if she had only turned in assignments, ... I then informed her that if she didn't do her part, her grades will continue to suffer. Fern claims to understand this, but she is easily distracted in class... she still didn't turn in any homework already for the this quarter. ...

Two days into the quarter and she has missing assignments! This is the child who wants to go to UVA and is failing high school algebra anyway. Now, I have to add to my list of resolutions to check behind my daughter and make sure she's done her homework. she says she has. What next, follow her to each class and make sure she turns it in? It put me in a real depressed mood when I got this news. It's hard enough to deal with my ADD, now I'm going to have to deal with hers.


¹House of Mouse, a.k.a. Disney

Back to the Grind

Dan and I did have fun on new year's eve. I wore my hair pinned back with a clip I borrowed from The Girl. The crowd in the club skewed older and therefore dressed "down" more than I'd have liked. I had no idea how fancy to dress for the event so I went for the upper level of the range. And, yes, I was one of about 10 women who wore dresses, I had the fanciest. (Yay me!) Which means I was stared at a lot. I tried to remember to stand up straight and look like they were the ones who underdressed. It was a party, for goodness sake!


The crowd also seemed asleep for until midnight. I called the club the night before to get an idea of the schedule. Dinner was to be at 7:00 and the band was to start at 8:00. We arrived at 7:00, hors d'oeuvres were served at 7:30, dinner after 8:00, all while we were serenaded by acoustic classical guitar. For three hours. (That explains the sleepy part) The band came on at 10:00. sheesh. Still no dancing. Dan and I started it to some degree by dancing to Faithful and True, but the floor wasn't packed until after midnight and the horn blowing. And the kissing. A lot of kissing going on. Except for the couple next to us. They just sat there, and didn't move, except to drink and go to the restroom. Go figure.

On the way to the car we got a comment about Dan's tie going with my dress. It made it all worth it. We left at about 12:40 so we could get home and relieve the sitter. And The Boy was still awake. sheesh.

Now I'm back at work, wading through emails and checking on everything that rolls over with the new month. Next week we'll be getting all the annuals ready.

I need to balance my check book, it hasn't been done since I did it in August, and get a new register for '08. I also write 2008 on a bunch of checks in the pad ahead of time so I get used to the idea of the new year.

The boy was up in time for the bus this morning, which is a miracle because he hasn't gotten up before 10 this whole break, sometimes 11:00. I left for work before The Girl was up, told her if she missed the bus, she had to walk.