It's quiet outside - lots of birds chirping.
It's going to be a hot one but K and I went to the beach yesterday and it was plenty hot there, I can tell you. (Does that sound dirty? Only a little.)
We lolled about a bit in the early morning, had coffee, had to run back to the house for something and weren't really on the road until 9:30ish, which is late for us.
We hadn't realized about the Air Show.
The Air Show takes place yearly at the beach to the west of the beach that K and I visit.
Thousands of people attend and this was obvious by the traffic on the highway to the beach.
The Authorities closed the roads, in fact, and it took us nearly two hours to get to our half-hour-away beach.
Some backstory about me and airshows:
My dear dad loved a good airshow.
I? Not so much.
But, then again, I was a girl who liked shoe shopping. The idea of standing on hot pavement whilst watching planes in the sky did nothing for me.
My dad traveled places to see airshows!
He went to National Airshows.
And, when he lived (and died) in Oklahoma City he attended the airshow there.
We were all there together the year a pilot was killed - crashing his plane, somehow, into the tarmac. (We were walking to the parking area and saw a plume of black smoke.)
I attended my last airshow one summer there in OKC. In fact, that may have been the one. And I'm pretty sure I was pregnant with Middle. And I know for a fact that it was well over 100 degrees.
But I've gone off on a tangent here...
K and I were sitting in the Jeep, in crawling traffic, wondering if we'd ever make it to the beach when suddenly and incredibly loudly, an F22 flew very low but astonishingly quickly over our heads.
It was tremendous.
It was deafening.
It did some stunts whilst we sat with looks of wonder on our faces.
I called Middle (home in bed) and narrated and let him hear the force of it. (He is a fighter-plane enthusiast.)
We took a couple of pictures.
Its final trick of the day was to hover, just slightly, with its nose up, and not move forward.
We were stunned.
The beach was lovely. Warm and not too crowded and we unwound a little and I walked in the water which was so bitingly cold that it hurt my feet.
When we got home, Middle told me all the specs of the plane and described how it hovered.
He told me how much it cost and how fast it flies and what it is capable of.
And I didn't think about how much my dad would absolutely adore that Middle knows and is interested in all this stuff until now - just this minute. They would be great buddies.
He's a great kid.
Here's another, I think. I'm enjoying reading her from over here in far left field.
I'm off to clean up and see Youngest march in the parade.
keeping busy
As K was never one to sit still before recent events, he is even more committed to doing as much as he can while at home.
It's handy because lots of things have been taken care of here at the house but I need to not feel compelled to keep up with him.
- Except it's only 11:00 and I've already done some laundry and made Crack Pie...
I had a teeny taste of Crack Pie a few weeks ago and was very excited about it, which is interesting as I am not a sweets person. Addictive and gooey, I could be happy with a one-inch square of it. My friend KT, who had shared hers with me, pointed out the recipe and I sent it home for a later date.
That weekend, I realized that it is a lengthy project - and I am not a great baker. I backed off.
But this weekend we've been invited for drinks at a neighbor's house and my boys could use a treat.
The ingredients are simple enough - though I had to pick up powdered milk and rolled oats. Each step is easy, but one must make the cookie for the cookie crust, then make the cookie crust, then make the filling and bake it (somewhat carefully IMO) until it looks like it is not done, remove it to cool and then refrigerate it. Plus, the recipe makes TWO pies and I had to adjust for the fact that the pie pans I have are two different sizes and of two different materials (glass and tin). All this, added to the fact that my very posh oven must be compensated for (convection? conventional? reduce the heat? increase the heat? two pies?) made for lots of work.
I approached it as I usually approach baking.
I measured out the ingredients for each component in separate areas, gathered all the tools and machines and set to work.
It required the mixer (twice) and the food processor as well as every little dish and bowl I could get my hands on.
I like to clean up as I go as though we have a lovely kitchen big recipes can clutter it up quickly.
I didn't hit any snags (which worries me - how could I have gotten it all right?) and the pies look the way they are supposed to:
They get dusted with confectioners sugar before serving and I promise to report back on how they taste.
In other news:
I'm pms-y, all shaky hands and ready to cry. Terrible. Don't worry, I don't let myself think about the Big Picture, but K bought a tomato plant and mentioned that he won't have to fence it off this year (Dazey used to stand and eat our cherry tomatoes) and I was weeping in the market.
The front garden is lovely -through no fault/effort of ours,
but the back garden, where we planted shade-loving plants is barren. Fail. Again.
We have lovely moss growing -
just not where we wanted it to be.
Our bedroom is upside down with cast-off possible trade-show outfits and chores need doing.
What was that I was saying about sitting still?
It's handy because lots of things have been taken care of here at the house but I need to not feel compelled to keep up with him.
- Except it's only 11:00 and I've already done some laundry and made Crack Pie...
I had a teeny taste of Crack Pie a few weeks ago and was very excited about it, which is interesting as I am not a sweets person. Addictive and gooey, I could be happy with a one-inch square of it. My friend KT, who had shared hers with me, pointed out the recipe and I sent it home for a later date.
That weekend, I realized that it is a lengthy project - and I am not a great baker. I backed off.
But this weekend we've been invited for drinks at a neighbor's house and my boys could use a treat.
The ingredients are simple enough - though I had to pick up powdered milk and rolled oats. Each step is easy, but one must make the cookie for the cookie crust, then make the cookie crust, then make the filling and bake it (somewhat carefully IMO) until it looks like it is not done, remove it to cool and then refrigerate it. Plus, the recipe makes TWO pies and I had to adjust for the fact that the pie pans I have are two different sizes and of two different materials (glass and tin). All this, added to the fact that my very posh oven must be compensated for (convection? conventional? reduce the heat? increase the heat? two pies?) made for lots of work.
I approached it as I usually approach baking.
I measured out the ingredients for each component in separate areas, gathered all the tools and machines and set to work.
It required the mixer (twice) and the food processor as well as every little dish and bowl I could get my hands on.
I like to clean up as I go as though we have a lovely kitchen big recipes can clutter it up quickly.
I didn't hit any snags (which worries me - how could I have gotten it all right?) and the pies look the way they are supposed to:
They get dusted with confectioners sugar before serving and I promise to report back on how they taste.
In other news:
I'm pms-y, all shaky hands and ready to cry. Terrible. Don't worry, I don't let myself think about the Big Picture, but K bought a tomato plant and mentioned that he won't have to fence it off this year (Dazey used to stand and eat our cherry tomatoes) and I was weeping in the market.
The front garden is lovely -through no fault/effort of ours,
but the back garden, where we planted shade-loving plants is barren. Fail. Again.
We have lovely moss growing -
just not where we wanted it to be.
Our bedroom is upside down with cast-off possible trade-show outfits and chores need doing.
What was that I was saying about sitting still?
in Positano everything is beautiful
Paola HAS the ironing board.
And I was just browsing at those irons.
Sigh.
Friday
So...Industry Event, many hours on my feet (though it was on top of very cushy carpet most of the time), lots of walking blahblahblah.
Tired!
I have a long weekend, though, and am planning a trip to the beach with K.
You know what I love? I love reading Apartment Therapy and finding a post wherein the commenters argue!
I will preface by saying that I really do love reading Apartment Therapy for design and (strangely) cleaning information.
But there's nothing like a little brawl in the comment box to get my heart racing.
Anyway. Where was I?
Right, the beach - some fireworks, Youngest in a parade...and I am going to attempt this recipe.
I had a teeny taste of Crack Pie a couple of weeks ago and died and went to heaven. Then I came back and finished off that email I was writing. (Funny!)
Then, you know, laundry.
Laundry and FIGURING OUT WHAT THE HELL TO WEAR.
Here's the thing: when I get up in the morning it is cool (close to cold if I get a scooter ride to the station). When I go out during the day it is hot. When I sit at my desk it is either HOT or FREEZING.
Every weekend I tell myself that I am going to plan some outfits (and put away some cold weather things that are lingering) but I never do.
This weekend, I'm going to try.
Okay?
Isn't this a nice thing?
Do you suppose it has to have one of those horrible covers over it?
Oh, to have a Classic Clothes Airer. Or might I need The Edwardian?
Ack. Have just remembered that the shelves in my kitchen felt grimy tonight.
Add it to my list.
Tired!
I have a long weekend, though, and am planning a trip to the beach with K.
You know what I love? I love reading Apartment Therapy and finding a post wherein the commenters argue!
I will preface by saying that I really do love reading Apartment Therapy for design and (strangely) cleaning information.
But there's nothing like a little brawl in the comment box to get my heart racing.
Anyway. Where was I?
Right, the beach - some fireworks, Youngest in a parade...and I am going to attempt this recipe.
I had a teeny taste of Crack Pie a couple of weeks ago and died and went to heaven. Then I came back and finished off that email I was writing. (Funny!)
Then, you know, laundry.
Laundry and FIGURING OUT WHAT THE HELL TO WEAR.
Here's the thing: when I get up in the morning it is cool (close to cold if I get a scooter ride to the station). When I go out during the day it is hot. When I sit at my desk it is either HOT or FREEZING.
Every weekend I tell myself that I am going to plan some outfits (and put away some cold weather things that are lingering) but I never do.
This weekend, I'm going to try.
Okay?
Isn't this a nice thing?
Do you suppose it has to have one of those horrible covers over it?
Oh, to have a Classic Clothes Airer. Or might I need The Edwardian?
Ack. Have just remembered that the shelves in my kitchen felt grimy tonight.
Add it to my list.
notes from the out of office event
All you really need to know at this point is that standing up for two days straight (no sitting allowed!) whilst being cheerful and helpful, can be somewhat draining.
I promise to fill you in later today.
I promise to fill you in later today.
Japanese birthday
Youngest had his birthday, amidst all the ado last week.
We had presents and cake and candles (including one of those re-lighting ones that I added unknowingly).
He asked for and we dined upon K's Country Ribs with homemade macaroni and cheese and had a nice day.
But, one of the best things about Youngest's birthday each year is receiving the birthday parcel from his friend A, in Japan.
His friend A lived here when they were little - they were in kindergarten together - and she moved back to Tokyo in fourth grade. She made a visit for fifth grade graduation and stayed with us for a while with her mom, C.
Each year they exchange gifts for their birthdays and Christmas and C and I send each other little treats. C likes to receive anything I can send that is typical Tuvaluan. I like to receive my most favorite magazine: Kun:el.
I would add, parenthetically, that the gifts from Japan are always small exquisite items, breathtakingly wrapped and beautifully chosen. The packages are as light as a feather and a delight to behold from the outer wrappings to the origami cards. Our gifts to them? Well, let's just say that there have been years wherein I feel as though we are shipping ANVILS. Anvils wrapped in gold bars.
Youngest's package arrived the other day. A sent him a gorgeous tee shirt and one of those wee tiny chains that get clipped to a cell phone. C sent me my favorite magazine.
Do I have any idea what the articles are about?
No.
Do I care?
Not in the slightest.
There are always food pages, printed on a different paper. I have no hope of deciphering what the food is. But I don't mind.
There are, usually, some paper-craft pages. Somehow, I don't think I could wrap a wine bottle in paper as nicely as this.
Even Japanese tee shirts have a different aesthetic.
Text? Indecipherable. Pretty, though.
Beauty features? Indecipherable and pretty.
I'm always fascinated by the home stories.
I have a passion for kitchen sinks. True!
Of course, my favorite pages are the fashion pages. I spend a lot of time staring at them and then trying to duplicate outfits.
I like the striped tunic best.
This page has me coveting that green jacket. I could use an all-weather jacket like that even though I never like hoods.
I think the fashion story in this issue was what to pack for a particular trip...
See? You could pack your Pocky and your vaseline...
or, in this bag, you could bring your doughnuts and tinned ham. Or not.
Wait.
If you need me I'll be staring at the pictures and trying to figure out what's going on.
We had presents and cake and candles (including one of those re-lighting ones that I added unknowingly).
He asked for and we dined upon K's Country Ribs with homemade macaroni and cheese and had a nice day.
But, one of the best things about Youngest's birthday each year is receiving the birthday parcel from his friend A, in Japan.
His friend A lived here when they were little - they were in kindergarten together - and she moved back to Tokyo in fourth grade. She made a visit for fifth grade graduation and stayed with us for a while with her mom, C.
Each year they exchange gifts for their birthdays and Christmas and C and I send each other little treats. C likes to receive anything I can send that is typical Tuvaluan. I like to receive my most favorite magazine: Kun:el.
I would add, parenthetically, that the gifts from Japan are always small exquisite items, breathtakingly wrapped and beautifully chosen. The packages are as light as a feather and a delight to behold from the outer wrappings to the origami cards. Our gifts to them? Well, let's just say that there have been years wherein I feel as though we are shipping ANVILS. Anvils wrapped in gold bars.
Youngest's package arrived the other day. A sent him a gorgeous tee shirt and one of those wee tiny chains that get clipped to a cell phone. C sent me my favorite magazine.
Do I have any idea what the articles are about?
No.
Do I care?
Not in the slightest.
There are always food pages, printed on a different paper. I have no hope of deciphering what the food is. But I don't mind.
There are, usually, some paper-craft pages. Somehow, I don't think I could wrap a wine bottle in paper as nicely as this.
Even Japanese tee shirts have a different aesthetic.
Text? Indecipherable. Pretty, though.
Beauty features? Indecipherable and pretty.
I'm always fascinated by the home stories.
I have a passion for kitchen sinks. True!
Of course, my favorite pages are the fashion pages. I spend a lot of time staring at them and then trying to duplicate outfits.
I like the striped tunic best.
This page has me coveting that green jacket. I could use an all-weather jacket like that even though I never like hoods.
I think the fashion story in this issue was what to pack for a particular trip...
See? You could pack your Pocky and your vaseline...
or, in this bag, you could bring your doughnuts and tinned ham. Or not.
Wait.
If you need me I'll be staring at the pictures and trying to figure out what's going on.
notes from home
The scene: Middle returns from work.
bb: Have you eaten? Dad's cooking.
Middle: I had a really great sandwich kind of late, so I don't know.
bb: Oh, yeah? I love sandwiches!
Middle: Yeah, it was The Bravo. Roast beef, onions, cheese. It was really good.
bb: Good name.
Middle: Yeah. My boss had The Godfather III. He said it wasn't as good as the previous Godfathers but it had all the elements....
Added note: I've been calling Middle Jonesy for quite a while now but, of late, he's insisting on being referred to as Maverick.
bb: Have you eaten? Dad's cooking.
Middle: I had a really great sandwich kind of late, so I don't know.
bb: Oh, yeah? I love sandwiches!
Middle: Yeah, it was The Bravo. Roast beef, onions, cheese. It was really good.
bb: Good name.
Middle: Yeah. My boss had The Godfather III. He said it wasn't as good as the previous Godfathers but it had all the elements....
Added note: I've been calling Middle Jonesy for quite a while now but, of late, he's insisting on being referred to as Maverick.
swimwear
The thing is,
I really would like
to purchase a swim suit
without metal embellishments or zippers or ruching.
Or laces.
I don't think I need laces on my bathing suit. And now I see why some people call them bathing costumes.
If she doesn't look comfortable
why would I think I would be comfortable?
This?
- is so bizarre that I am somewhat intrigued by it.
I can't imagine anyone comfortable enough with their own midsection for this one:
Can you picture me sitting on the beach on the Cape in this?
No comment.
I really would like
to purchase a swim suit
without metal embellishments or zippers or ruching.
Or laces.
I don't think I need laces on my bathing suit. And now I see why some people call them bathing costumes.
If she doesn't look comfortable
why would I think I would be comfortable?
This?
- is so bizarre that I am somewhat intrigued by it.
I can't imagine anyone comfortable enough with their own midsection for this one:
Can you picture me sitting on the beach on the Cape in this?
No comment.
notes from Sunday night
- I made pizza. I purchased the dough, but successfully (sort of) managed to form it into pizza shape, top it and bake it. It was edible. This is a first.
- We saved at least twenty bucks by not buying bottled tea at the supermarket, which pleases me. When we told the kids that we were switching to iced tea mix they were all: cool.
- There is no dog to lick up grated mozzarella should it happen to find itself on the kitchen floor.
- I took a nap on Saturday and on Sunday.
- Because I'm not worried but I am emotional. Emotional is tiring.
- My FAOA (who is doing quite well) took a turn supporting me on the phone.
- Lost is one crazy-ass show.
- Yep. "Crazy-ass" is hyphenated.
- Minute To Win It was fabulous.
- I need a pedicure, but only on my pinkie toes.
- Wait. So, the people on the island, on Lost, are also someplace else at the same time?
- I'm pretty excited about attending the business event thing this week.
- I think I'm going to wear my new dress.
someone left a tissue in the wash
Everyone has been very kind to us.
It warms the heart and bolsters the spirits.
But I do need to say (and I don't propose to be heroic) that I truly believe that life is full of bumps and while we ride the road (enough metaphor for you?) we are blessed.
Tracy sent these words:
Sometimes stuff like this happens and it feels like it might be a bad thing, but everything always works out in the end and then you wonder why you worried. My sister sent me a really interesting article about positive thought. It said in order to live a happy life we should stop thinking about events as positive or negative. Just think of them as events in a life.
This event will lead to another event then another later on. It all becomes part of the narrative of your life.
This could not be more true to me.
In the meantime, have you read the Best-of-Craiglist? Oldest passed it to me. Oldest, whose life is a hard road that he fights against every day. Through his journey he is incredibly true to his own self. I admire him tremendously for this though I don't always (rarely, even) agree with his views. Anyway, it's a great read. Go. Read.
And then there's this. Passed to me by Middle, today.
I'm sitting listening to Prairie Home Companion, the dishes are done (though I could not muster the energy to scrub that frying pan) and the windows are all open (metaphors again).
K is well - he went to his favorite beach yesterday and cleared his head.
I'm busy with work, which is a great and wonderful thing.
Middle is busy with work and friends and Youngest is well - the most well he's ever been.
Oldest is strumming softly on his guitar in the next room.
It's Saturday night.
It warms the heart and bolsters the spirits.
But I do need to say (and I don't propose to be heroic) that I truly believe that life is full of bumps and while we ride the road (enough metaphor for you?) we are blessed.
Tracy sent these words:
Sometimes stuff like this happens and it feels like it might be a bad thing, but everything always works out in the end and then you wonder why you worried. My sister sent me a really interesting article about positive thought. It said in order to live a happy life we should stop thinking about events as positive or negative. Just think of them as events in a life.
This event will lead to another event then another later on. It all becomes part of the narrative of your life.
This could not be more true to me.
In the meantime, have you read the Best-of-Craiglist? Oldest passed it to me. Oldest, whose life is a hard road that he fights against every day. Through his journey he is incredibly true to his own self. I admire him tremendously for this though I don't always (rarely, even) agree with his views. Anyway, it's a great read. Go. Read.
And then there's this. Passed to me by Middle, today.
I'm sitting listening to Prairie Home Companion, the dishes are done (though I could not muster the energy to scrub that frying pan) and the windows are all open (metaphors again).
K is well - he went to his favorite beach yesterday and cleared his head.
I'm busy with work, which is a great and wonderful thing.
Middle is busy with work and friends and Youngest is well - the most well he's ever been.
Oldest is strumming softly on his guitar in the next room.
It's Saturday night.
Red Scooter Guy
I've mentioned him before.
Now, I have learned the true identity of Red Scooter Guy.
The backstory: parked near our scooter, most days, is a wonderful Vespa. It is red and Italian (of course) and is not locked (though this is a minor detail).
Rain or shine, snow or heat, this scooter is at the station.
At first, we thought the owner of the Red Scooter must work very long hours.
K and I might decide to take an early train and the Red Scooter would already be at the station. We might return from the city late at night - the Red Scooter would be there.
Then we realized that the Red Scooter was often there for days on end (snow on the seat).
Why, I found myself wondering, why would this guy leave his scooter for a few days at a time?
I found myself speculating on him. Who was he? What might he do for a living?
Finally, after months of intense focus on the Red Scooter, I spied its owner.
Tall and not unattractive, Red Scooter guy dashed off the train one evening in a well-cut suit.
He strode quickly to the parking area, grabbed his helmet (most scooters have a helmet stowing trunk of sorts), hopped on his scooter and flew out the entrance to the parking lot.
It was like catching a glimpse of a rare bird.
I was terribly excited and further intrigued.
Out the entrance?! Brazen.
Months passed.
I had another sighting of Red Scooter Guy.
I saw him in my car on the train - I moved quickly to be able to observe him "casually."
The lovely suit, no briefcase or newspaper, and on his cell phone.
I detected an accent I could not place...Australian? European?
I couldn't get close enough to hear clearly.
He hurried to his scooter and stood a moment before finishing his call, hopping on the scooter and speeding away.
I was very excited. I noticed that he headed north.
But it gets better.
One day at lunchtime, I was headed down the block - just across from The Well Known Real Estate Office on my street, when suddenly, I saw Red Scooter Guy walk out of the building.
Was he looking for an apartment? How could he be on my block?
Very Intriguing.
Of course, I phoned K immediately. (I should point out that my interest in Red Scooter Guy is nothing but boring to K.)
I reported my sighting and speculated a bit more.
Two nights later, I was in the station in town musing over the people who had not bought new monthly tickets. There were long lines of people waiting to use the ticket machines and there he was again. I was finally able to get a good long look at him and confirm all visual information.
That weekend, whilst folding laundry (or ironing, or sitting eating chocolate, who knows!) I was surfing channels on television. I landed upon Selling New York and eagerly watched as I have a plan (which I will discuss later) in which K and I purchase an apartment close to my office - but that's a post for another day. I was sitting and watching (and, I assure you, folding laundry) when who do I see? There? On Selling New York? Red Scooter Guy.
I grab for a pencil and write down his name.
It's a South African accent.
He has a home near mine (well, near in as much as he lives in the ultra-deluxe part of town and I live near the police station) and, I would assume, a place in the city.
You cannot imagine my delight in having observed this fellow for nearly two years and, after careful examination and some cautious spy/stalking work, having identified him.
That he is, for the moment, a minor celebrity, is much less thrilling to me than that I have waited it out, compiled the facts and learned, at last, his true identity.
I am considering going into detective work as a side-line.
Now, I have learned the true identity of Red Scooter Guy.
The backstory: parked near our scooter, most days, is a wonderful Vespa. It is red and Italian (of course) and is not locked (though this is a minor detail).
Rain or shine, snow or heat, this scooter is at the station.
At first, we thought the owner of the Red Scooter must work very long hours.
K and I might decide to take an early train and the Red Scooter would already be at the station. We might return from the city late at night - the Red Scooter would be there.
Then we realized that the Red Scooter was often there for days on end (snow on the seat).
Why, I found myself wondering, why would this guy leave his scooter for a few days at a time?
I found myself speculating on him. Who was he? What might he do for a living?
Finally, after months of intense focus on the Red Scooter, I spied its owner.
Tall and not unattractive, Red Scooter guy dashed off the train one evening in a well-cut suit.
He strode quickly to the parking area, grabbed his helmet (most scooters have a helmet stowing trunk of sorts), hopped on his scooter and flew out the entrance to the parking lot.
It was like catching a glimpse of a rare bird.
I was terribly excited and further intrigued.
Out the entrance?! Brazen.
Months passed.
I had another sighting of Red Scooter Guy.
I saw him in my car on the train - I moved quickly to be able to observe him "casually."
The lovely suit, no briefcase or newspaper, and on his cell phone.
I detected an accent I could not place...Australian? European?
I couldn't get close enough to hear clearly.
He hurried to his scooter and stood a moment before finishing his call, hopping on the scooter and speeding away.
I was very excited. I noticed that he headed north.
But it gets better.
One day at lunchtime, I was headed down the block - just across from The Well Known Real Estate Office on my street, when suddenly, I saw Red Scooter Guy walk out of the building.
Was he looking for an apartment? How could he be on my block?
Very Intriguing.
Of course, I phoned K immediately. (I should point out that my interest in Red Scooter Guy is nothing but boring to K.)
I reported my sighting and speculated a bit more.
Two nights later, I was in the station in town musing over the people who had not bought new monthly tickets. There were long lines of people waiting to use the ticket machines and there he was again. I was finally able to get a good long look at him and confirm all visual information.
That weekend, whilst folding laundry (or ironing, or sitting eating chocolate, who knows!) I was surfing channels on television. I landed upon Selling New York and eagerly watched as I have a plan (which I will discuss later) in which K and I purchase an apartment close to my office - but that's a post for another day. I was sitting and watching (and, I assure you, folding laundry) when who do I see? There? On Selling New York? Red Scooter Guy.
I grab for a pencil and write down his name.
It's a South African accent.
He has a home near mine (well, near in as much as he lives in the ultra-deluxe part of town and I live near the police station) and, I would assume, a place in the city.
You cannot imagine my delight in having observed this fellow for nearly two years and, after careful examination and some cautious spy/stalking work, having identified him.
That he is, for the moment, a minor celebrity, is much less thrilling to me than that I have waited it out, compiled the facts and learned, at last, his true identity.
I am considering going into detective work as a side-line.
Friday
You knew I couldn't stay away too long, didn't you?
It has been a heck of a week, punctuated by, what my MIL calls, a kick in the teeth.
I worked hard at the office in preparation for a major event next week, my boss made it to London and back and mentioned that they'd love to see me in the UK office (note to Alice!) and I went and saw my pal Jen make an appearance at a big bookstore.
Next week, I'll accompany co-workers to a two-day industry show kind of thing, be on my feet all day and, hopefully, manage the boss's time efficiently.
We await the arrival of the London staff and are hoping for ash abatement.
Jen's appearance? Well, let me tell you - I am lucky enough to be around Jen whenever I can (though it often involves air travel). If you are lucky enough to be able to see her at your local bookstore, I highly recommend it.
She is tremendously entertaining and her fans, her loyal, lovely, wonderful fans, are treated to fresh Jen. Live Jen. Hysterically funny Jen.
Have I mentioned (less than five or six times) that Chapter Four of My Fair Lazy covers her visit here, to MY HOUSE, a couple of summers ago? I've never been in a book before and blush and smile and couldn't be more tickled by this. You really need to pick it up and read it while I work on cleaning up my language (apparently I curse A LOT).
After the reading I had drinks with her and some of her peeps and publishing staff and then dashed off to the 11:19. What a night!
(As an aside, I need to tell you that a fellow in her audience mistook me for Anna Wintour. And no, he wasn't drunk.) Between being completely starstruck, chuffed over the new book and a couple of glasses of Pinot Grigio, it was memorable to say the least.
Oh, and, the kick in the teeth?
K was laid off from his job on Tuesday.
This bad thing was shocking, yes, but I was not surprised. The great guy who brought him into the company was let go a month after K arrived. Their big plans were doomed only four weeks after K was made a staff member and, frankly, I was surprised they kept K as long as they did. Business losses and layoffs all around slowly spelled doom (I guess) for K's position and he was told that he was "a luxury the company could no longer afford."
It's strange, but I just seem to not have the energy to have a breakdown about this.
I am working.
My position is secure.
We are all healthy and happy.
We have each other and we will be fine. I don't know when, exactly, but I have faith that K will move on to something else...perhaps even something that is a more comfortable fit.
He's hit the ground running and I've realized that all those years that he was free-lance (and he will probably be free-lance for a while now too) had many benefits.
I've learned that you can lose a staff position. I've lived in fear of him losing his job and it has happened. It happened a few years ago and we survived. I feel like we will again.
My confidence probably stems from the fact that I am not sitting at home fretting. I'm working and loving it.
This, of course, does not mean that I wouldn't gladly accept your support/prayers/thoughts while we weather this storm.
But this time I'm not sitting wringing my hands and crying.
I do so appreciate my community here.
It wasn't easy to form my thoughts and post them.
And, as always,
I thank you...
all 331 of you who clicked over here to see what I was up to yesterday.
It has been a heck of a week, punctuated by, what my MIL calls, a kick in the teeth.
I worked hard at the office in preparation for a major event next week, my boss made it to London and back and mentioned that they'd love to see me in the UK office (note to Alice!) and I went and saw my pal Jen make an appearance at a big bookstore.
Next week, I'll accompany co-workers to a two-day industry show kind of thing, be on my feet all day and, hopefully, manage the boss's time efficiently.
We await the arrival of the London staff and are hoping for ash abatement.
Jen's appearance? Well, let me tell you - I am lucky enough to be around Jen whenever I can (though it often involves air travel). If you are lucky enough to be able to see her at your local bookstore, I highly recommend it.
She is tremendously entertaining and her fans, her loyal, lovely, wonderful fans, are treated to fresh Jen. Live Jen. Hysterically funny Jen.
Have I mentioned (less than five or six times) that Chapter Four of My Fair Lazy covers her visit here, to MY HOUSE, a couple of summers ago? I've never been in a book before and blush and smile and couldn't be more tickled by this. You really need to pick it up and read it while I work on cleaning up my language (apparently I curse A LOT).
After the reading I had drinks with her and some of her peeps and publishing staff and then dashed off to the 11:19. What a night!
(As an aside, I need to tell you that a fellow in her audience mistook me for Anna Wintour. And no, he wasn't drunk.) Between being completely starstruck, chuffed over the new book and a couple of glasses of Pinot Grigio, it was memorable to say the least.
Oh, and, the kick in the teeth?
K was laid off from his job on Tuesday.
This bad thing was shocking, yes, but I was not surprised. The great guy who brought him into the company was let go a month after K arrived. Their big plans were doomed only four weeks after K was made a staff member and, frankly, I was surprised they kept K as long as they did. Business losses and layoffs all around slowly spelled doom (I guess) for K's position and he was told that he was "a luxury the company could no longer afford."
It's strange, but I just seem to not have the energy to have a breakdown about this.
I am working.
My position is secure.
We are all healthy and happy.
We have each other and we will be fine. I don't know when, exactly, but I have faith that K will move on to something else...perhaps even something that is a more comfortable fit.
He's hit the ground running and I've realized that all those years that he was free-lance (and he will probably be free-lance for a while now too) had many benefits.
I've learned that you can lose a staff position. I've lived in fear of him losing his job and it has happened. It happened a few years ago and we survived. I feel like we will again.
My confidence probably stems from the fact that I am not sitting at home fretting. I'm working and loving it.
This, of course, does not mean that I wouldn't gladly accept your support/prayers/thoughts while we weather this storm.
But this time I'm not sitting wringing my hands and crying.
I do so appreciate my community here.
It wasn't easy to form my thoughts and post them.
And, as always,
I thank you...
all 331 of you who clicked over here to see what I was up to yesterday.
time out
I'm taking a brief blog break.
Lots to think about over here - I hope you'll bear with me.
More later.
Lots to think about over here - I hope you'll bear with me.
More later.
10 lesser notes from work
Monday proved to be less than stellar.
I have several excuses.
1. K and I arrived at the station, on the scooter, when he realized he had left his train ticket at home.
2. I spent a good 40 minutes looking on my computer for the resume of the woman seeing my boss at 2:00. It turned out to have been MAILED to me. In PAPER form. Imagine? Of course it was in my Pending folder. The one MADE OF PAPER. Sitting ON MY DESK.
3. The 3:00 person stood up my boss. Didn't show. The NERVE.
4. I spent a good 40 minutes looking for a package that was sent to my boss at 4:00 last Wednesday. Where was *I* at 4:00 last Wednesday? See the entry regarding the deceased dog.
5. If you'd like to send a package to my boss, by messenger, at 4:00 on a Wednesday - or ANY day, it's much more effective if you address the package to HIM and not YOURSELF. Just sayin.
6. Cheap shoes are, sometimes, just that...and my adorable Jeffrey Campbell shoes, which people compliment me on LEFT AND RIGHT, have a horrible seam inside them that vexes me.
7. I have many choices of printers to print things on in my office (does that make sense?). Yesterday I sent a document to Printer EDJ4 as the printer near my office was jammed. THERE IS NO PRINTER EDJ4. I have no idea where the document went.
8. Whilst loitering around the copier that DID work I spied a contract and dutifully returned it to the Contract Department. Except the lady copying the contract had just stepped away for a MOMENT and returned when I did to find her contract GONE. That was good of me, wasn't it?
9. The guy who sent the package at 4:00 on Wednesday? I told him my DOG HAD DIED. Not to be outdone, he spent some time telling me about his 16 year-old Westie. Really, I only wanted more information about what time the package was signed for to help determine where it was.
10. Then I went home and watched House. Which was sad but hopeful. Which we watched because it was shot with a Canon 5D MarkII. Really.
I have several excuses.
1. K and I arrived at the station, on the scooter, when he realized he had left his train ticket at home.
2. I spent a good 40 minutes looking on my computer for the resume of the woman seeing my boss at 2:00. It turned out to have been MAILED to me. In PAPER form. Imagine? Of course it was in my Pending folder. The one MADE OF PAPER. Sitting ON MY DESK.
3. The 3:00 person stood up my boss. Didn't show. The NERVE.
4. I spent a good 40 minutes looking for a package that was sent to my boss at 4:00 last Wednesday. Where was *I* at 4:00 last Wednesday? See the entry regarding the deceased dog.
5. If you'd like to send a package to my boss, by messenger, at 4:00 on a Wednesday - or ANY day, it's much more effective if you address the package to HIM and not YOURSELF. Just sayin.
6. Cheap shoes are, sometimes, just that...and my adorable Jeffrey Campbell shoes, which people compliment me on LEFT AND RIGHT, have a horrible seam inside them that vexes me.
7. I have many choices of printers to print things on in my office (does that make sense?). Yesterday I sent a document to Printer EDJ4 as the printer near my office was jammed. THERE IS NO PRINTER EDJ4. I have no idea where the document went.
8. Whilst loitering around the copier that DID work I spied a contract and dutifully returned it to the Contract Department. Except the lady copying the contract had just stepped away for a MOMENT and returned when I did to find her contract GONE. That was good of me, wasn't it?
9. The guy who sent the package at 4:00 on Wednesday? I told him my DOG HAD DIED. Not to be outdone, he spent some time telling me about his 16 year-old Westie. Really, I only wanted more information about what time the package was signed for to help determine where it was.
10. Then I went home and watched House. Which was sad but hopeful. Which we watched because it was shot with a Canon 5D MarkII. Really.
notes from home
Little things to look at.
Epicness.
We had a quiet weekend. Re-arranged some things. De-dogged the house. Slept a little late (no dog to let out or feed) and celebrated Youngest's sixteenth birthday.
That's something, isn't it?
16.
He could drive - if he wanted to, and it seems like he was a little kid just a few months ago.
He gets stellar grades, amazing reports from his teachers and does brilliant graphic design work.
This summer, he will attend Art School a few blocks away from my office and I'm looking forward to walking downtown with him.
He's a great guy, our Youngest: a loyal friend, a loving brother and son and a fine young man.
Sixteen!
Epicness.
We had a quiet weekend. Re-arranged some things. De-dogged the house. Slept a little late (no dog to let out or feed) and celebrated Youngest's sixteenth birthday.
That's something, isn't it?
16.
He could drive - if he wanted to, and it seems like he was a little kid just a few months ago.
He gets stellar grades, amazing reports from his teachers and does brilliant graphic design work.
This summer, he will attend Art School a few blocks away from my office and I'm looking forward to walking downtown with him.
He's a great guy, our Youngest: a loyal friend, a loving brother and son and a fine young man.
Sixteen!
the Survivor Finale
How many of these have I sat through?
Duncan Hines makes and excellent cake mix.
Can I possibly understand a season of episodes by viewing the opening minutes of this episode?
That Pavarti is quite the operator.
But Sandra's got a lot going on too.
Rupert is gone!
Alliances are shattered!
Sandra plays the last idol and only 5 players remain: Colby, the last hero, Pavarti, a cunning strategist, Sandra, who like Pavarti has won before, Jerri, a smart player, and Russell, who is just plain evil!
20 seasons! That's how many I've sat through.
It's night 36 and Russell says that Sandra pulled a terrible play using the idol. Sandra holds her ground and I love that she's not afraid of him.
Russell accuses Pavarti of lying to him and being sneaky - he tells everyone in camp that she can't be trusted.
Colby and Jerri think they have to get rid of Jerri.
WHY CAN'T ANYONE GET RUSSELL OUT?
In the morning mail arrives announcing a challenge. A dish smashing challenge.
Am I the only person in the world who thinks no jury will ever vote for Russell to win?
Tell me what you think.
Immunity is up for grabs.
The players must balance dishes on a pole.
At nine dishes high both Sandra and Jerri are wobbly. Sandra drops out.
At thirteen dishes stacked Jerri struggles and is out.
Russell's dishes fall at sixteen.
Pavarti and Colby are the last standing.
It gets windy.
Colby is wavering but Pavarti seems so composed.
Seventeen dishes are stacked and this contest is vital.
Colby's plates fall and Pavarti wins.
At camp Colby levels with the team and asks that they enjoy day 37 and acts as though he suspects that he's going home. It was his "surrender speech."
But he tells us, choking up, when the time was right - he made one more attempt.
He asks Russell what he's going to do and Russell tells him.
Colby says they should get rid of Sandra tonight and then work together to get rid of Pavarti tomorrow.
Russell thinks again about who to vote out. Should it be Sandra?
It will be interesting....
Tribal is all the usual chat about who's vulnerable and who should go and hundreds of facial expressions from the Jury.
It Is Time To Vote.
I've just figured it out - two paragraphs later...no one will vote Russell out now because he'll never win in the Jury vote.
It's Colby vs. Sandra and Colby goes.
Jeff tells them to sleep well and sends the final four back to camp.
At camp Pavarti says she didn't realize she was such a huge threat...in the morning Jerri and Russell plan and plot on how to beat Pavarti. She comes to camp with mail: IT'S TIME FOR THE CEREMONIAL WALK OF FALLEN COMRADES.
And so, dear friends, this is where my mom makes her exit - and where I move upstairs.
(I know you care where I watch Survivor.)
Comfortably upstairs:
Ooooh, the very last challenge!
It's a giant maze, the players are blindfolded and must read clues using their fingers, find necklaces and make it through the maze.
Russell, Pavarti and Jerri get their first necklaces while Sandra struggles.
Russell moves ahead with Pavarti and Jerri close behind.
Jerri moves into the lead with Pavarti.
Russell and Pavarti have all their necklaces and tangle to get to the finish.
It is SO close but Russell wins it!
Russell is guaranteed a spot in the finals. Who will be sent home?
Jerri says that Pavarti will go.
Russell tells Sandra she's sitting pretty.
He says he's keeping her so he can win a million dollars - he thinks the jury won't give her a million again.
Pavarti decides to make her case with Russell.
They go to Tribal.
Who should Russell take? Each woman states her case.
Who goes with Russell? Pavarti and Sandra...Jerri joins the Jury.
At camp, Sandra turns in early. There isn't a lot of talking.
On the morning of the last day Pavarti, Sandra and Russell pick up the fancy final morning breakfast.
Russell is very proud of himself for making it to the finals again.
He's very confident.
But Pavarti tells him she wouldn't vote for him and as soon as he walks away the ladies laugh about.
Sandra burns his hat!
He looks around for it while she tells us how much she can't stand him. She talks about how hard she worked.
(FYI, we don't like it when the tribes burn the camp at the end of each season.)
At Tribal Jeff invites each player to make a plea to the Jury.
Sandra explains that she played alone and well.
Russell defends his actions and apologizes.
Pavarti talks about how she used Russell to move forward.
You know how this goes - each jury member gets to grill the players and get them to explain why they should win. The best part of this segment is seeing how people look all cleaned up.
They all talk a mean game and it, sometimes, gets a little complicated to follow.
Looking at it, here, in the end, one can see how Russell played the best game - even if we don't like him. The speeches from the jury get more and more intense until, finally, it's time to vote.
(Hey, I think I've been spelling Parvati's name wrong this whole time!)
Cut to live in New York for the reading of the votes...
everyone is clean and shiny.
Jeff says that this has been the best season ever and reminds us that there is no show like this - and he's right.
But who will win?
We don't think Russell will get any votes. He will be sosoSO angry.
He's not getting any votes - it's tied between Parvati and Sandra...
Sandra wins!
We feel good about that.
Duncan Hines makes and excellent cake mix.
Can I possibly understand a season of episodes by viewing the opening minutes of this episode?
That Pavarti is quite the operator.
But Sandra's got a lot going on too.
Rupert is gone!
Alliances are shattered!
Sandra plays the last idol and only 5 players remain: Colby, the last hero, Pavarti, a cunning strategist, Sandra, who like Pavarti has won before, Jerri, a smart player, and Russell, who is just plain evil!
20 seasons! That's how many I've sat through.
It's night 36 and Russell says that Sandra pulled a terrible play using the idol. Sandra holds her ground and I love that she's not afraid of him.
Russell accuses Pavarti of lying to him and being sneaky - he tells everyone in camp that she can't be trusted.
Colby and Jerri think they have to get rid of Jerri.
WHY CAN'T ANYONE GET RUSSELL OUT?
In the morning mail arrives announcing a challenge. A dish smashing challenge.
Am I the only person in the world who thinks no jury will ever vote for Russell to win?
Tell me what you think.
Immunity is up for grabs.
The players must balance dishes on a pole.
At nine dishes high both Sandra and Jerri are wobbly. Sandra drops out.
At thirteen dishes stacked Jerri struggles and is out.
Russell's dishes fall at sixteen.
Pavarti and Colby are the last standing.
It gets windy.
Colby is wavering but Pavarti seems so composed.
Seventeen dishes are stacked and this contest is vital.
Colby's plates fall and Pavarti wins.
At camp Colby levels with the team and asks that they enjoy day 37 and acts as though he suspects that he's going home. It was his "surrender speech."
But he tells us, choking up, when the time was right - he made one more attempt.
He asks Russell what he's going to do and Russell tells him.
Colby says they should get rid of Sandra tonight and then work together to get rid of Pavarti tomorrow.
Russell thinks again about who to vote out. Should it be Sandra?
It will be interesting....
Tribal is all the usual chat about who's vulnerable and who should go and hundreds of facial expressions from the Jury.
It Is Time To Vote.
I've just figured it out - two paragraphs later...no one will vote Russell out now because he'll never win in the Jury vote.
It's Colby vs. Sandra and Colby goes.
Jeff tells them to sleep well and sends the final four back to camp.
At camp Pavarti says she didn't realize she was such a huge threat...in the morning Jerri and Russell plan and plot on how to beat Pavarti. She comes to camp with mail: IT'S TIME FOR THE CEREMONIAL WALK OF FALLEN COMRADES.
And so, dear friends, this is where my mom makes her exit - and where I move upstairs.
(I know you care where I watch Survivor.)
Comfortably upstairs:
Ooooh, the very last challenge!
It's a giant maze, the players are blindfolded and must read clues using their fingers, find necklaces and make it through the maze.
Russell, Pavarti and Jerri get their first necklaces while Sandra struggles.
Russell moves ahead with Pavarti and Jerri close behind.
Jerri moves into the lead with Pavarti.
Russell and Pavarti have all their necklaces and tangle to get to the finish.
It is SO close but Russell wins it!
Russell is guaranteed a spot in the finals. Who will be sent home?
Jerri says that Pavarti will go.
Russell tells Sandra she's sitting pretty.
He says he's keeping her so he can win a million dollars - he thinks the jury won't give her a million again.
Pavarti decides to make her case with Russell.
They go to Tribal.
Who should Russell take? Each woman states her case.
Who goes with Russell? Pavarti and Sandra...Jerri joins the Jury.
At camp, Sandra turns in early. There isn't a lot of talking.
On the morning of the last day Pavarti, Sandra and Russell pick up the fancy final morning breakfast.
Russell is very proud of himself for making it to the finals again.
He's very confident.
But Pavarti tells him she wouldn't vote for him and as soon as he walks away the ladies laugh about.
Sandra burns his hat!
He looks around for it while she tells us how much she can't stand him. She talks about how hard she worked.
(FYI, we don't like it when the tribes burn the camp at the end of each season.)
At Tribal Jeff invites each player to make a plea to the Jury.
Sandra explains that she played alone and well.
Russell defends his actions and apologizes.
Pavarti talks about how she used Russell to move forward.
You know how this goes - each jury member gets to grill the players and get them to explain why they should win. The best part of this segment is seeing how people look all cleaned up.
They all talk a mean game and it, sometimes, gets a little complicated to follow.
Looking at it, here, in the end, one can see how Russell played the best game - even if we don't like him. The speeches from the jury get more and more intense until, finally, it's time to vote.
(Hey, I think I've been spelling Parvati's name wrong this whole time!)
Cut to live in New York for the reading of the votes...
everyone is clean and shiny.
Jeff says that this has been the best season ever and reminds us that there is no show like this - and he's right.
But who will win?
We don't think Russell will get any votes. He will be sosoSO angry.
He's not getting any votes - it's tied between Parvati and Sandra...
Sandra wins!
We feel good about that.
notes from the office
ten nice things:
1. Someone asks me about a meeting and I tell them that my boss doesn't attend that particular meeting. I know, without looking it up, that he does not attend the Inventory Meeting. Even if they move it to Monday.
2. In the ladies room, a lovely woman who works down the hall is excited to show me, on her iPhone, her baby daughter's very first steps.
3. A fellow who sits across the hall from me likes to listen to baseball on the radio in the afternoon while he works. This seems so old-fashioned to me and I love it.
4. My friend J makes a silly mistake, not a big deal, but she is eager to come and tell me and we laugh - because it really IS very silly.
5. There are Wheat Thins available in the snack machine.
6. As my boss is out of town I have some time on my hands just when another department is looking for volunteers to sort and staple material. Win/win.
7. Being able to walk away at 4:00 the day Dazey died.
8. I don't think Continental Breakfast (which consists of muffins and coffee/juice) will do for the offsite meeting I've organized. I feel confident my boss will agree. He does.
9. The sound of the fellow who works just outside my door clicking away at an old-school calculator.
10. The copier no longer makes that horrible squeaking sound.
1. Someone asks me about a meeting and I tell them that my boss doesn't attend that particular meeting. I know, without looking it up, that he does not attend the Inventory Meeting. Even if they move it to Monday.
2. In the ladies room, a lovely woman who works down the hall is excited to show me, on her iPhone, her baby daughter's very first steps.
3. A fellow who sits across the hall from me likes to listen to baseball on the radio in the afternoon while he works. This seems so old-fashioned to me and I love it.
4. My friend J makes a silly mistake, not a big deal, but she is eager to come and tell me and we laugh - because it really IS very silly.
5. There are Wheat Thins available in the snack machine.
6. As my boss is out of town I have some time on my hands just when another department is looking for volunteers to sort and staple material. Win/win.
7. Being able to walk away at 4:00 the day Dazey died.
8. I don't think Continental Breakfast (which consists of muffins and coffee/juice) will do for the offsite meeting I've organized. I feel confident my boss will agree. He does.
9. The sound of the fellow who works just outside my door clicking away at an old-school calculator.
10. The copier no longer makes that horrible squeaking sound.
hey, it's Thursday
So, mom brought over some beef stew - we have a family joke about the best food being reserved "for the bereaved" and mom fed us well.
We watched a little Entertainment Tonight (fabulous trash!) (Mary Hart makes me a little crazy!) and settled in for Survivor.
Survivor is wrapping up this weekend but it's also Youngest's birthday so I'm not sure what we are doing for the finale. (Family meeting required.)
It's only been 24 hours and I am sure I hear the dog snoring, I look for her in the kitchen (she loved to lick the floor) and have checked a few times to make sure she has water in her bowl. I suppose these things will take time and thank you all for your kind comments. I passed them to Oldest who is doing well. As he is a passionate guy he pretty much burned through his grief quickly and is managing nicely.
Now, on Survivor, I'm pleased to know that Rupert is still in the game. Colby is there too. Sandra has an Immunity Idol? Russell may have been voted out but threw Danielle under the bus.
Six are left and Russell has no alliances?
Jerri and Pavarti talk about how ruthless Russell is. Pavarti doesn't trust him anymore. She wants Colby and Rupert out before she deals with Russell.
Russell doesn't trust Pavarti either.
There's product placement allowing the tribe to watch videos of family members before their next challenge.
And that challenge? Opens with them seeing their family members.
Of course, it's Rupert's reunion with his wife that chokes me up. He's such a good guy.
The team must scoop water from the ocean and fill a bucket...how is this hard, I find myself wondering.
OOOOOOhhhhhhhh! The water must be THROWN from one teammate to another.
Now THAT is hard.
Colby has a terribly hard time.
Jerri and her sister win!
Jerri chooses Pavarti to go with her and asks Jeff if she can take someone else.
Jeff says yes and Pavarti chooses Sandra.
Russell looks pissed and the three girls go off to reward.
Okay, so I missed much of the reward as the power on my laptop went and I had to find the cord. But I did manage to see the part wherein Jerri talked about how Russell must be angry with her.
At the camp, Russell talks about what a bad decision Jerri made by taking the girls to reward. He gripes to Rupert and Colby. Rupert wonders if going to the final three with Rupert isn't such a bad idea. Rupert lobbies for getting Pavarti out next.
The women return at night. Jerri wants to speak with Russell but he and Colby are sleeping. Rupert is up, sawing firewood and disturbing his tribemates. Jerri finds this incredibly inconsiderate and SHE WANTS HIM GONE.
She and Russell get up and go off to talk privately.
Jerri tries to make amends with him and Rupert believes her.
Time for a challenge. Contestants must stand with their arms outstretched, holding up two poles on the backs of their hands.
Colby is out in the first 15 seconds.
Sandra is next in under a minute.
Russell is next.
Jerri fails.
Pavarti and Rupert are the last people standing after 17 minutes.
Both of them struggle.
It's painful to watch.
Rupert fails and Pavarti wins.
"Pavarti saved herself 100%" says Rupert.
It's day 36 and Russell tells us that he has a very easy decision to make.
Sandra wants Russell out - she tells this to Rupert.
Rupert tells Russell.
Sandra tells Pavarti.
Rupert wants to fool Russell into thinking he and Colby are with him.
Russell confronts Sandra who tells him she's against him.
Sandra calls Rupert out on telling Russell.
Suddenly, the girls aren't so afraid of Russell.
Jerri is confused. "The camp has turned into Crazy Town."
Russell decides that Sandra has to go. But he's not sure.
Sandra is confident that she's not going home!
Time for Tribal Council.
Sandra and Russell explain what's been going on at camp.
You know, all the chat before the vote bores me. BORES ME.
It's the last time an Immunity Idol can be played.
Sandra and Rupert vote for each other.
We don't get to see how anyone else votes.
Who's going?
Sandra plays the Idol.
Rupert, Sandra (doesn't count), Rupert, Sandra(doesn't count), RUPERT.
Damnittohell.
Once again, Rupert loses.
See you for the Finale.
And thanks. Thanks for being very kind friends to all of us.
We watched a little Entertainment Tonight (fabulous trash!) (Mary Hart makes me a little crazy!) and settled in for Survivor.
Survivor is wrapping up this weekend but it's also Youngest's birthday so I'm not sure what we are doing for the finale. (Family meeting required.)
It's only been 24 hours and I am sure I hear the dog snoring, I look for her in the kitchen (she loved to lick the floor) and have checked a few times to make sure she has water in her bowl. I suppose these things will take time and thank you all for your kind comments. I passed them to Oldest who is doing well. As he is a passionate guy he pretty much burned through his grief quickly and is managing nicely.
Now, on Survivor, I'm pleased to know that Rupert is still in the game. Colby is there too. Sandra has an Immunity Idol? Russell may have been voted out but threw Danielle under the bus.
Six are left and Russell has no alliances?
Jerri and Pavarti talk about how ruthless Russell is. Pavarti doesn't trust him anymore. She wants Colby and Rupert out before she deals with Russell.
Russell doesn't trust Pavarti either.
There's product placement allowing the tribe to watch videos of family members before their next challenge.
And that challenge? Opens with them seeing their family members.
Of course, it's Rupert's reunion with his wife that chokes me up. He's such a good guy.
The team must scoop water from the ocean and fill a bucket...how is this hard, I find myself wondering.
OOOOOOhhhhhhhh! The water must be THROWN from one teammate to another.
Now THAT is hard.
Colby has a terribly hard time.
Jerri and her sister win!
Jerri chooses Pavarti to go with her and asks Jeff if she can take someone else.
Jeff says yes and Pavarti chooses Sandra.
Russell looks pissed and the three girls go off to reward.
Okay, so I missed much of the reward as the power on my laptop went and I had to find the cord. But I did manage to see the part wherein Jerri talked about how Russell must be angry with her.
At the camp, Russell talks about what a bad decision Jerri made by taking the girls to reward. He gripes to Rupert and Colby. Rupert wonders if going to the final three with Rupert isn't such a bad idea. Rupert lobbies for getting Pavarti out next.
The women return at night. Jerri wants to speak with Russell but he and Colby are sleeping. Rupert is up, sawing firewood and disturbing his tribemates. Jerri finds this incredibly inconsiderate and SHE WANTS HIM GONE.
She and Russell get up and go off to talk privately.
Jerri tries to make amends with him and Rupert believes her.
Time for a challenge. Contestants must stand with their arms outstretched, holding up two poles on the backs of their hands.
Colby is out in the first 15 seconds.
Sandra is next in under a minute.
Russell is next.
Jerri fails.
Pavarti and Rupert are the last people standing after 17 minutes.
Both of them struggle.
It's painful to watch.
Rupert fails and Pavarti wins.
"Pavarti saved herself 100%" says Rupert.
It's day 36 and Russell tells us that he has a very easy decision to make.
Sandra wants Russell out - she tells this to Rupert.
Rupert tells Russell.
Sandra tells Pavarti.
Rupert wants to fool Russell into thinking he and Colby are with him.
Russell confronts Sandra who tells him she's against him.
Sandra calls Rupert out on telling Russell.
Suddenly, the girls aren't so afraid of Russell.
Jerri is confused. "The camp has turned into Crazy Town."
Russell decides that Sandra has to go. But he's not sure.
Sandra is confident that she's not going home!
Time for Tribal Council.
Sandra and Russell explain what's been going on at camp.
You know, all the chat before the vote bores me. BORES ME.
It's the last time an Immunity Idol can be played.
Sandra and Rupert vote for each other.
We don't get to see how anyone else votes.
Who's going?
Sandra plays the Idol.
Rupert, Sandra (doesn't count), Rupert, Sandra(doesn't count), RUPERT.
Damnittohell.
Once again, Rupert loses.
See you for the Finale.
And thanks. Thanks for being very kind friends to all of us.
all quiet
The dog is gone.
The dog has died.
It was quick. Sort of. A couple of weeks of off behavior.
The vet told us a couple of years ago that she was very old. We changed some things in her life, made some adjustments. Bought dog toys again. Oldest became wary and passed her many many little treats over this past two years: little bits of bacon, fresh fruit, a little pork.
We bought her some very fancy canned food about a month ago and it proved to be too much for her. Not that it killed her, but it was too rich, I think.
She wasn't well.
Finally, this week, she stopped eating and drinking and nothing could be made right for her. I, yes I, fed her water from an eye dropper.
She stayed on her delicious giant soft bed for three whole days and only moved once - to walk slowly to Oldest's door as if to tell him something.
She and I had a tacit understanding. I do not care for dogs and she did not care for me. This made neither of us very popular.
She ran to greet K every night when he got home. He would scratch her behind her ears and say "hello, Dazey." Then she'd trot off and wait for someone to drop some food in the kitchen. But she was Oldest's dog and slept in his bed from the time she was a tiny puppy until he was too tall to share the space with her. She would follow his scent across the lawn when he went out. She was curled up with a tee shirt of his this morning.
They had a brutally teary goodbye - Oldest and Dazey.
Dazey Dog.
Dazey Dooley.
He was the best boy any dog could want and she, well, she was the very best dog a boy could have.
annual
We are seasoned.
We are tired and sore and were filthy.
We worked hard.
Oldest has his own methods.
He found a bag of baby shoes amidst all that food. This discovery made him very sad. We quickly distracted him with workworkwork.
I hadn't seen a can like this in a long time!
Since 1996, I guess. No good. Expired items (14 year-old expired items) cannot be donated!
Middle's favorite food of the evening. He likes pictures of moose(es).
We worked with a lovely quiet lady who packed along with us (we pack fast!) and was shy about asking the boys to help her lift bins.
It's the hardest work we do as a family.
We packed more than a dozen skids.
Each skid holds 24 bins.
We went for ice cream on the way home at 10:30 - flush with pride.
We are tired and sore and were filthy.
We worked hard.
Oldest has his own methods.
He found a bag of baby shoes amidst all that food. This discovery made him very sad. We quickly distracted him with workworkwork.
I hadn't seen a can like this in a long time!
Since 1996, I guess. No good. Expired items (14 year-old expired items) cannot be donated!
Middle's favorite food of the evening. He likes pictures of moose(es).
We worked with a lovely quiet lady who packed along with us (we pack fast!) and was shy about asking the boys to help her lift bins.
It's the hardest work we do as a family.
We packed more than a dozen skids.
Each skid holds 24 bins.
We went for ice cream on the way home at 10:30 - flush with pride.
Sunday
So, I think, as I dislike Mother's Day, as you know, that there should be songs celebrating it. Heck, we have songs for everything - why not songs for this?
(Okay, maybe we do have songs for MD, but we can't think of any off the top of our heads.)
Hence, I'd like to nominate three choices for songs that I think are appropriate.
And you should listen to me. Because, Luke, I am your Mother.
#1 (Thank you Fluid Pudding)
#2 Billie Holiday. Families across the world should sing this to their mums today. And they should all do imitations of Billie Holiday whilst singing it.
#3 Oh Canada. Yes. Oh Canada. I've always admired it and the zeal with which you Canadians sing it.
And so, dear friends, I encourage you to go forth today and sing one of these songs to thine mother.
(Okay, maybe we do have songs for MD, but we can't think of any off the top of our heads.)
Hence, I'd like to nominate three choices for songs that I think are appropriate.
And you should listen to me. Because, Luke, I am your Mother.
#1 (Thank you Fluid Pudding)
#2 Billie Holiday. Families across the world should sing this to their mums today. And they should all do imitations of Billie Holiday whilst singing it.
#3 Oh Canada. Yes. Oh Canada. I've always admired it and the zeal with which you Canadians sing it.
And so, dear friends, I encourage you to go forth today and sing one of these songs to thine mother.
spring trends I like - and some I don't
The coats have been banished to the closet in Tuvalu. People are walking around in their shirtsleeves and I'm seeing lots of stuff I love, out there on the street, and some fashion trends I don't like very much.
Here's my report:
I see dozens of beautiful cardigans out there. I think JCrew must have popularized the cardi with a new crowd. Just a few years ago they were considered sort of stuffy but now they are available everywhere and are terrific on cool mornings or in AC.
I love footless tights/leggings with shorts. (I know! Who'd have expected THAT?) I'm not talking about me wearing them but I've seen leggy girls looking adorable in tights and shorts.
Boots, bare legs and skirts. Yep. Another look I'd never have thought of but it's kind of cute - and just right as it's warm enough for bare legs and not too hot for boots. It's a delicate balance between proportion of boot (think mid-calf) and skirt length (think not-so-Stevie-Nicks) but I've seen a bunch of ladies pull it off quite well.
On men, I'm noticing plaid shirts with rolled sleeves! And fabulous old-school sneakers like Sperrys or Vans.
Meanwhile, I will continue my rant against wearing those lovely jersey-fabric dresses without the proper undergarments. Slips, I want to shout! I saw some very nice slips at the Gap last week (signifying the ease of purchase) and yet there is nary a slip to be seen in my city. The other day I was walking behind a shapely woman in a beautiful clingy skirt and I could clearly see every movement of her butt muscles AND the outline of her thong. I was praying she wasn't walking into my office building as I would find it difficult to restrain myself from entreating her to BUY A DAMN SLIP. Yes, I know, she probably looked "sexy" but I don't want to see her thong.
Also, I am having a hard time going with the whole I'm wearing a plaid bra under my sheer white blouse thing. While it's true that the saleslady at Nordstrom tried to convince me that this is a very hip look (the wearing of the patterned bra under the sheer top) I am not buying it! I didn't buy it!
Finally, I'd like to have a quick word about gladiator sandals. I'm guessing gladiator sandals were shown on runways around the world a few years ago and that they have now become affordable and available to the masses. But gladiator sandals, my friends, are a very stilted look and not easy to wear in everyday go-to-the-office settings. There's just something amiss with a JCrew skirt, tee shirt, cardi and glad sandals look and I believe the world needs to know about it.
For me, sandals of this type must really stand alone, as the centerpiece of an ensemble else they appear out of place or worse: like a costume.
There.
I feel better already.
BTW, it took me all day to be able to finish this post. FYI.
Here's my report:
I see dozens of beautiful cardigans out there. I think JCrew must have popularized the cardi with a new crowd. Just a few years ago they were considered sort of stuffy but now they are available everywhere and are terrific on cool mornings or in AC.
I love footless tights/leggings with shorts. (I know! Who'd have expected THAT?) I'm not talking about me wearing them but I've seen leggy girls looking adorable in tights and shorts.
Boots, bare legs and skirts. Yep. Another look I'd never have thought of but it's kind of cute - and just right as it's warm enough for bare legs and not too hot for boots. It's a delicate balance between proportion of boot (think mid-calf) and skirt length (think not-so-Stevie-Nicks) but I've seen a bunch of ladies pull it off quite well.
On men, I'm noticing plaid shirts with rolled sleeves! And fabulous old-school sneakers like Sperrys or Vans.
Meanwhile, I will continue my rant against wearing those lovely jersey-fabric dresses without the proper undergarments. Slips, I want to shout! I saw some very nice slips at the Gap last week (signifying the ease of purchase) and yet there is nary a slip to be seen in my city. The other day I was walking behind a shapely woman in a beautiful clingy skirt and I could clearly see every movement of her butt muscles AND the outline of her thong. I was praying she wasn't walking into my office building as I would find it difficult to restrain myself from entreating her to BUY A DAMN SLIP. Yes, I know, she probably looked "sexy" but I don't want to see her thong.
Also, I am having a hard time going with the whole I'm wearing a plaid bra under my sheer white blouse thing. While it's true that the saleslady at Nordstrom tried to convince me that this is a very hip look (the wearing of the patterned bra under the sheer top) I am not buying it! I didn't buy it!
Finally, I'd like to have a quick word about gladiator sandals. I'm guessing gladiator sandals were shown on runways around the world a few years ago and that they have now become affordable and available to the masses. But gladiator sandals, my friends, are a very stilted look and not easy to wear in everyday go-to-the-office settings. There's just something amiss with a JCrew skirt, tee shirt, cardi and glad sandals look and I believe the world needs to know about it.
For me, sandals of this type must really stand alone, as the centerpiece of an ensemble else they appear out of place or worse: like a costume.
There.
I feel better already.
BTW, it took me all day to be able to finish this post. FYI.
this Star Wars stuff never ceases to amaze me
...and I'm sure it amazes you too. This via my brother.
He sends this too -
really?
you need it in your syrup? maybe it's time for a 12 step program.
Yeah. Welcome to Wednesday, wherein I let my brother do my blogging.
Oh, and, Middle pointed out that yesterday was Star Wars Day.
What is Star Wars Day I hear you asking?
May The Fourth.
He sends this too -
really?
you need it in your syrup? maybe it's time for a 12 step program.
Yeah. Welcome to Wednesday, wherein I let my brother do my blogging.
Oh, and, Middle pointed out that yesterday was Star Wars Day.
What is Star Wars Day I hear you asking?
May The Fourth.
random
Middle and I invented a corkscrew that is 10 feet by 20 feet and involves a mule pulling a giant gear. Here's a similar invention for making tea.
May Choicest Blessings Be Upon you. Customizable music e-cards.
Staples.
Crazy paper thing. English? Not so much. Time on his hands? Plenty.
This guy freaks me out a little.
I've never been a Land's End shopper but this might change my mind.
I'm not crazy about sweets either but I had a tiny taste of this and it was heaven.
Lovely prints.
Still loving Valet. This is wonderful.
Wellfleet. I am thinking on Wellfleet.
Brother B now has a blog and, while it may be more than you ever wanted to know about kayaking, it is so serene and well written that I believe you may just want to go kayaking after you read it.
May Choicest Blessings Be Upon you. Customizable music e-cards.
Staples.
Crazy paper thing. English? Not so much. Time on his hands? Plenty.
This guy freaks me out a little.
I've never been a Land's End shopper but this might change my mind.
I'm not crazy about sweets either but I had a tiny taste of this and it was heaven.
Lovely prints.
Still loving Valet. This is wonderful.
Wellfleet. I am thinking on Wellfleet.
Brother B now has a blog and, while it may be more than you ever wanted to know about kayaking, it is so serene and well written that I believe you may just want to go kayaking after you read it.
Mother's Day
Do you know that I really and truly thought Mother's Day was yesterday?
I sort of hate Mother's Day - I've written about it before. I have no problem honoring our mothers (a little bit) but I feel the falseness of it when it comes to me. It just seems contrived. And I've done nothing (or little) to encourage my boys to partake in the artifice. And yet Oldest rushed in the other day: damn, Mom, when is Mother's Day?
Anyway, I thought I would put together a post of terrific things to buy one's mother on said day, from Anthro. I saw some things that would be nice for any mum and started compiling.
I was stopped dead in my tracks by this:
which is not, in any way, appropriate for one to give their mother but which I love. (I was invited to preview the May catalogue because I am special. In.My.Own.Head.) (Am I an XS?)
I did manage to find some lovely beads, on sale...
But then I got side-tracked again -
a nice cardigan. I don't need a cardigan but it's very pretty. Why, though, am I unable to pull this off?
I'll tell you why: I am short-waisted. But you, you might be able to pull this off.
Somehow, this led me here:
models with real bodies! Bravo! I can wear a two-piece bathing suit this summer. I will keep this picture in my head.
(Are those fishnet tights?)
Then I saw these (someplace else entirely)
and decided that they are the perfect color.
A Collection A Day had these
nautical flags! Love them.
So, to sum up: Mother's Day. Dislike it.
And, apparently, I'm itching for summer.
I sort of hate Mother's Day - I've written about it before. I have no problem honoring our mothers (a little bit) but I feel the falseness of it when it comes to me. It just seems contrived. And I've done nothing (or little) to encourage my boys to partake in the artifice. And yet Oldest rushed in the other day: damn, Mom, when is Mother's Day?
Anyway, I thought I would put together a post of terrific things to buy one's mother on said day, from Anthro. I saw some things that would be nice for any mum and started compiling.
I was stopped dead in my tracks by this:
which is not, in any way, appropriate for one to give their mother but which I love. (I was invited to preview the May catalogue because I am special. In.My.Own.Head.) (Am I an XS?)
I did manage to find some lovely beads, on sale...
But then I got side-tracked again -
a nice cardigan. I don't need a cardigan but it's very pretty. Why, though, am I unable to pull this off?
I'll tell you why: I am short-waisted. But you, you might be able to pull this off.
Somehow, this led me here:
models with real bodies! Bravo! I can wear a two-piece bathing suit this summer. I will keep this picture in my head.
(Are those fishnet tights?)
Then I saw these (someplace else entirely)
and decided that they are the perfect color.
A Collection A Day had these
nautical flags! Love them.
So, to sum up: Mother's Day. Dislike it.
And, apparently, I'm itching for summer.
notes from the office
Yesterday was an odd sort of day. My boss was in (usually he is out on Fridays) and it threw the balance of the day off a bit. But, at the same time, it was nice to not have to rush him from thing to thing.
He had told me he was leaving early and I was guessing that he'd send me home too - and I was right. First though, he shared his lunch with me and we sat and talked about our kids and dogs. He has an old Jack Russell Terrier and wants a puppy...I think it's spring fever talking.
There was a bake-off at the office on Thursday and the winner came in with a plate of her prize-winning rocky road treats. We each had a tiny square and he mentioned, after she left that he likes fruit tarts more than crazy chocolate combos. Note to me.
He sent me home at about 2:30 and I walked out into warm sunshine.
When I got down to the subway there was a lady with four dozen hot-pink foil balloons waiting for the train.
The sight of this caused a group of heavily styled teens to burst into spontaneous laughter.
I thought it was wonderful - four dozen balloons! on the subway!
Sadly, the balloon lady did not feel as magical about her cargo.
After I got to my train home I realized that crazy chocolate combos may not be my cup of tea either.
Also, I keep finding money!
Three quarters piled on the shelf in the loo at work - a quarter on my seat on the train. What do you think that means?
Middle is done with Freshman Year. I cannot quite grasp it. I will miss walking downtown with him very much.
Youngest will soon be a Junior, he has a new haircut and looks older. Taller too.
A pal of Oldest's was killed on a motorcycle yesterday.
All these things must pass.
I guess this wasn't just about the office, eh?
He had told me he was leaving early and I was guessing that he'd send me home too - and I was right. First though, he shared his lunch with me and we sat and talked about our kids and dogs. He has an old Jack Russell Terrier and wants a puppy...I think it's spring fever talking.
There was a bake-off at the office on Thursday and the winner came in with a plate of her prize-winning rocky road treats. We each had a tiny square and he mentioned, after she left that he likes fruit tarts more than crazy chocolate combos. Note to me.
He sent me home at about 2:30 and I walked out into warm sunshine.
When I got down to the subway there was a lady with four dozen hot-pink foil balloons waiting for the train.
The sight of this caused a group of heavily styled teens to burst into spontaneous laughter.
I thought it was wonderful - four dozen balloons! on the subway!
Sadly, the balloon lady did not feel as magical about her cargo.
After I got to my train home I realized that crazy chocolate combos may not be my cup of tea either.
Also, I keep finding money!
Three quarters piled on the shelf in the loo at work - a quarter on my seat on the train. What do you think that means?
Middle is done with Freshman Year. I cannot quite grasp it. I will miss walking downtown with him very much.
Youngest will soon be a Junior, he has a new haircut and looks older. Taller too.
A pal of Oldest's was killed on a motorcycle yesterday.
All these things must pass.
I guess this wasn't just about the office, eh?
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