In up to my hips (7)

(Listen to this while you read.  No, I don't know why)

Late last year, when I was clearly delusional, I allowed someone to volunteer me to be an SOP author for BigCo.  Didn't seem so difficult, until The Meetings started.  Once a week, people from all over the world were gathering to talk about the One Change that would have a very high impact not only on my new SOP, but also on a whole host of other SOPs, guidances, templates, instructions, accessory documents, and likely the orbit of the Earth around the Sun.

Things got really complicated after that.

Just yesterday, for example, after going through a presentation I'd already sat through once, the realization dawned on my that the SOP update that's just been approved is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT from what the subject of these meetings are, and that I now have about 3 months what it took the previous team 18 months to do.

A minor side note: I have never done an SOP for BigCo before.  Surely this combination of ignorance and the tight timeline will result in a high-quality suite of documents that will be nothing but a shining beacon of assistance to those in need.

Will keep you posted as exciting events continue to develop.

---

On Monday, I will meet with some folks to talk about how to address a confusing issue that I'm sure nobody remembers anything about since we've all been on a year-end break for a couple of weeks.  I intend to foist as much of the worky stuff off on the guy who will just be returning to work that day, because what's a 'welcome back!" without a little 'here's a big pile of stuff we need you to do, and soon, because now our timelines have tightened up considerably if we want to get this bad boy out the door when it's supposed to go.'

Instant panic.  Welcome to your new bellyache, my friend.

---

One last little piece of news:  I was sitting around with a couple of other folks today here at the office, and we were chatting about how all our lives are going to change drastically this year due to certain business changes, and someone not me remarked at how they thought it was odd that the CEO of our company hasn't uttered a word about it either internally or externally.  Not a word.

His end-of-year message though, I thought, was particularly thoughtful.  The title?  'Stay the Course.'

That's right, peons!  Just keep working like you aren't fully aware that we have shaken out the corporate carpet and YOU are the dust that is flying from it!  Don't be distracted by the ground moving under your feet or the distinct whistle of doom rocketing toward you, just turn out those widgets until such time as your ID badge doesn't work anymore!  Toodle pip, dearies, I'm off to go bathe in champagne and order a new set of unicorns, I'm so stressed by thinking about how shattered you must all be!

Stay the Course, indeed.  While Rome burns, I will stay the course.  While the demon clown of job change nears, with the rank stench of the spoiled meat of my career oozing from its pores, I will stay the course.  While my stomach roils with anxiety and my heart skips a beat in a lurching crazy response to uncertainty, you can be sure I'll stay the course.

I have an SOP to write, after all.

---

What have some management blunders been in your life?  Surely BigCo can't be the only place that reflects such boorish assessments of what's important.  Do tell us all about it, and have a wonderful weekend.

Tiff out.

You may have heard about our cold, yes? (6)

Dear Lord Loser - the numbering is back up, just so you know in which order the nonsense should be read.  You're welcome.

---

For many years my family lived in upstate New York.

'Upstate' as in just barely north of the PA Line, but anything north of 'The City' is upstate so our little town qualified.

Up there, as you can imagine, there was Winter.  Lots and lots of winter.  Winter for months, winter that started in September and didn't let up until April.  Winter that had lots and lots of snow and cold and dark.  Winter that brought sunsets at 4:30 and clear night (5 pm!) skies.  Winters with snowmen that were built one month and were likely to still be there the next month, such was the perseverant cold.

Blood gets thick with Winters like that, and folks do complain about summer being too hot when the temps hit 75F or so.

I feel ya, sister.

So you think that with all those late '60s/early '70's Real Winters (before global warming became a thing!) under my belt, I'd be used to the extreme low temps we're experiencing today in NC, but that would be an incorrect assumption.  Nope, I am as miserable as a native Floridian when the AC is a little too cool (below 70!); it feels like I'll never be warm again.  In my house the temp is set to 65, and the poor HVAC unit has been working mightily to keep it there.  I won't allow the kids to turn it up any higher because then it will NEVER go off.  The highlight of my day has been the drive to the orthodontist's office with Thing 2, the heat cranked fully to the red zone and blasting like I had to dry my hair.  Bliss.

Taking the brunt of the 50-degree temp drop from last Sunday (70!) to today (less than 20!) is tough on an old gal like me.  And it's fine to moan about it a bit. right?  Thank goodness there are things like heating systems and warm cars and hot tea and slippers and wearing a hoodie AND a scarf indoors to take the edge off.

Those 15 years of Winter in CT of recent vintage seem to have worn smack off, so it's no wonder that the NY winters of my youth are but a distant dark memory.  Those hard tough edges have worn off, have been lost along with every pair of mittens I've ever own and the need to have a winter coat.

It's just not supposed to be this cold, you see.

---

Go ahead and laugh, but just know that when the water heater in the crawl space can only deliver sort-of scalding water for a short time when it has the potential to serve up truly scalding water for eons in better weather, it's freaking COLD.

Now I'm going to go stick my hands in my armpits and figure out what I can boil for dinner (steam, you see).

Here's to warmer days ahead - Tiff out.

I guess I just don't understand

Recently, as you may have noticed, we had something called Christmas to celebrate.  It's tradition to have something to celebrate in the darkest days of winter, and when you add in lots of lights and PRESENTS and rich food and drinkies, I'm pretty sure nobody should argue that Christmas (even if a slightly artificial construct that draws from many similar types of midwinter celebrations) is worth having every year.

Check Stitchipedia for an explanation!

Therefore, our church had 3 Christmas Eve services this year, at 3 p.m., 4:30, and 6, to help the believers and seekers and dutiful celebrate...the birth of Jesus and more sun every day (also worth celebrating, though that bit was left out of the sermon).  There were a TON of people there, we raised a significant amount of money to help plant a(nother) church in Ecuador, lots of new folks got their yearly dose of Jesus, and it was a lot of work getting it all to run smoothly.  I have some notion of that, because I helped staff the info booth for one service and was on the safety team for another service.  We Were Busy.

By my estimate, there are about 30 people who volunteer on service teams during each service to help keep things running.  This includes folks in the band, on the AV team, the ushers, the parking lot team, the safety team, the cafe folks, the infobooth people, and the teachers.  Thirty is probably an underestimate, but let's be conservative.  If each person switches out for someone new in the next service, that means that there would be 90 people on a Sunday (we also have 3 services on Sunday) who volunteer to help keep the show going.  Out of a population of about 1000 who attend services at our site every week, this mean that 9% of the attendees are keeping all the plates spinning and making sure that the other 91% are having a good experience.

I will interject here that a goodly number of people who serve, serve for more than 1 service, which makes that 9% number shrink, but again, let's be conservative.

Those 90 people are doing some work on a Sunday, y'all, and also did so on a very busy Christmas eve.  So this year, like in years past, the staff opted to NOT meet on the Sunday following Christmas, to give themselves and the volunteer corps a chance to chill for one Sunday in the year.  This was duly announced during the CE services and also on Facebook, so the word could spread around.

Well, one person didn't much care for that, and suggested (paraphrasing here a little): 'I don't agree with this.  Churches should be open every Sunday.  Why couldn't you get a team of temporary volunteers to help run the services if you want to give the regulars a break?'

Let's unpack this gem from the commenter's perspective, shall we?

• I think church should be open every Sunday and shame on you for not doing so.
• I have not expressed this to anyone before now, or talked to staff, because if I had I would have better understood how much into each service that I'm not aware of.
• I think the staff should have recruited at least 30, but perhaps as many as 90, people to volunteer to run the services.  
• Some of them will have to know how to run a sophisticated sound board, or know how to play an instrument, or make coffee, or have the patience of Job with babies, but hey:
• These fill-in will only have to do this once a year when the regulars are being given a break from their week-in-week-out service.
• It really shouldn't that difficult to get 30 (or 90) people to do this once a year!
• Because, after all, how hard could it be?

Well, y'all.

WELL.

I ALLLLLMOST responded to this person, but in the end just bit my (online) lip and did not.  See the things is that 1)I don't recognize him. 2) There are no church friends who are mutual friends with him.  3) I have a lot of church friends on FB, and am at church nearly every week so I recognize folks so if 1 and 2 are true he may not be the world's most regular attender or just hasn't involved himself enough in church to be memorable or make any friends at church with whom I might also be friends.

It seems apparent that he's one of the 91% who thinks that just GOING to church is enough and that if the show is good enough he'll contribute some money and a helpful suggestion about How Things Ought To Be from time to time.  Well, friends, I'm here to say that in my opinion, he gets no say and should have kept that entitled attitude about how hard other people should work to his own dang self and not outed himself as the Queen Bee of Snoot on MY church's FB page.

Questions arise, such as:

Would it have been overreacting to say something along those lines?

Did I miss my golden opportunity or did I do that right thing by not dignifying his ignorant contribution with a response or rebuke?

Is he the QB of S or am I just being overly sensitive?

We may never know, but I do really REALLY hope one of the staff reached out to this fellow and invited him to join a service team.  Or 8.

Tiff out.

4 (a realization)

Do y'all sense a theme with the post titles?

Heh.

It's a pretty convenient way to remember how many I've done, but the theme is starting to wear on me a little so be ready for things to get shaken a little as I go BACK to actually giving posts titles.

It's a glorious new day!

---

Tell if I've told you this one before.

If I'm going to be posting once a day during the week, I might need to  generate some new material.  With about 1500 entries here already, there's a darned good chance that what I write about, from a historical perspective, has already been covered.

Like that former housemate who was shot and killed by an enraged jealous boyfriend.  I told you about that one, right?  And how a friend of hers (who was not-so-secretly in love with her) took a bullet to try to protect her?  I was trying to think of his name earlier, and was coming up blank, but now I recall it was Brian and he was a super-nice guy who found a big chunk of trouble in that gal.

Pretty sure I've mentioned the freight elevator in the academic building that housed the biology dept.  This was the one elevator in the building that was used primarily for hauling cadavers from the  basement where they were kept in large vats of formaldehyde, up to the anatomy labs on the top floor.  We always new when cadaver labs had started - the whole building smelled of formaldehyde.  That freight elevator was hand-operated and VERY old school.  No button to push for a floor, oh no.  You just mashed on the 'up' or 'down'  button and stopped mashing when it looked like the elevator was about even with the floor outside.  I got good at it after a couple of years riding up to the grad school offices on the third floor.

Canoeing in Florida and getting the wits scared out of my by an alligator, surely that's been told at least once.  And the all-night fishing expeditions the former husband loved?  The smell of salt air coming in through the windows of a small motel on that little island we used to go to before the kids came along?

Remembrances of when the boys were young, the hikes and playground days.  The Cub Scout years, the fights with teachers and the classroom volunteering.  I can't recall how much of that I've covered, and how much is yet uncovered that I should probably mention before I forget entirely.  Why, if I didn't have photos and some scattered entries in paper journals, my memory likely couldn't conjure up too many distinct episodes of their young lives, such is the mess that is my brain.

And then,, just about 9 years ago, I started this blog (OK, a little over 9 years).  For a time I was a very assiduous blogger indeed, and so I feel like the last life interval has been somewhat reasonably covered.

However, if there's something you'd like to know about me, or if any of the topics mentioned above don't sound familiar to you, please ask or let me know.  This daily blogging thing is going to require a LOT more thinking than just simply writing down the same stuff over and over and over again.

Because I'm going to need SOMETHING to jog my memory in 20 years or so!

Tiff out.

3 (Monday)

It'll make sense eventually

I have been unsuccessful in making my way to work today.  After more than two weeks off from work, it's not a battle I'm prepared to face.  Fortunately, wherever my work computer is there also iswork, so my kitchen will have to suffice for today (and likely tomorrow, as there are no scheduled meetings at this time to make it worth the 40-minute trip in).

Yesterday at church I was talking with someone who is on one of the teams I volunteer on.  She's a personal trainer, self-employed, and makes (by her own admittance) a pittance.  However, even being just above the poverty line isn't enough for her to go get a job at a gym, which she's done before.  She likes just being her own shop and living life how she wants to.  What freedom that must be!  For a while I've toyed with the idea of setting up shop on my own, but I'm not a natural entrepreneur and am mightily frightened of the world outside of corporate America.  It's a dumb way to be, isn't it?  Am I going to make the world burn or turn the tide of opinion by sitting around shuffling papers when I could be grabbing big handfulls of life and making things awesome?

Speaking of natural entrepreneurs, an old friend who started off with the same qualifications and training as me, is now spending 2 months in Germany for a client doing stuff for which they have hired her at what is likely to be a Very Nice Sum Indeed.  They've put her up in an apartment, she's travelling all over Europe, her family has visited.  Pretty awesome stuff.  All while I sit like a blob in the bottom of some cosmic bathtub, waiting to slide down the drain with a goopy slurp.

...

Well, that one took kind of a dark turn, and all because I'm miffed at having to go back to work already.  After my luxurious 2 weeks off.  Which I spent mostly doing nothing, and still getting paid for it.

Wow, life is SO HARD.  WHINE WHINE WHINE.

On a side note: there's a police car outside my house.  The nice officer is talking with a neighbor.  If I stepped out on the front porch I could hear every word of what's going on.  Would that be weird of me to do?  Just stand out there and listen in to what's going on and who is having trouble with whom?  Maybe I could pretend like I'm looking for something in my car, eh?  Just rummage around in there few a few minutes to glean something juicy to share with the LOML when he gets home?  Have I sunk to those levels?  Are we hearing the goopy slurp yet?

You have to admit that anytime the law shows up in your yard there's a certain amount of mystery and intrigue that goes along with it.  We don't see much of the law around here, and it's natural and understandable that I should want to concern myself with possible neighborhood dangers and issues, right?  Just a few minutes out searching my car for something I know I won't find should be OK, or maybe take out the trash, then the recycling, then some more trash, until I can develop an outline of what's being discussed?

The neighbor being interviewed once had a drunken naked fistfight with his wife out in the street, which makes this particular interaction all that much more interesting.  Things haven't gotten to that level of crazy in a while, but I suspect there's never really a languid moment at their house if both of them are home.

OOoh!  I think I just heard a raised voice!

Nope - now it's laughing.  I went and locked my door for nothing.  No throwdowns will occur, it appears.  Just some friendly streetside banter with your best buddy the cop.  Have a nice day, please proceed with what you were doing.

Slurp.

Tiff out.

2 (for 6)

Yesterday was supposed to be 'it,' but for reasons (and it is said) the date was changed to 03 Jan 2009.  What's the matter with a couple of days difference, after all.  The reasons were compelling enough, I suppose.

Six years tomorrow (not yesterday!) we got hitched.  It has been, without a doubt, one of the most enriching and enjoyable relationships I have ever been involved in.  What's not to like about a smart, funny, lighthearted, thoughtful, engaging person who is also multi-capable, helpful, energetic, and good-looking to boot?  Nothing is wrong with that, I say, NOTHING.

So I'm writing him a poem to celebrate.

Boy, I hope this turns out (*runs to fetch some liquid courage and ruminate*).

OK, here goes.

Himself, plus a very cute puppy he flew around with today.

Six Things I Like About You, in Haiku


Eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, your face
All the lobes of your fine brain,
Oh, I guess that's six.

But wait, there's much more!
Drumming on the steering wheel,
A generous grin,

Those out-there comics
Admirable chopping skills
Though no sticky hands!

'Dad' jokes at the lake
Wanting to drive All The Things
Giver of great hugs.

Able-bodied man
of God who loves to teach
and discuss and seek.

Strong shoulders, kind heart
Quick wit, endlessly patient
Musical to boot.

Inventive for sure
Really good at solitaire
Warmth, love, fun, invitation.

Thank you for saying
You would be with me always
Because, as you've said:

If you ever leave
me, I'm going with you. I
love you LOML. - Schmumpins.

---

Six years.  Time does indeed fly, and when each day is a light burden, a pleasure of ease and loving interaction (OK, most of them.  We do have our moments [mostly mine] and nobody's easy to get along with all the time), well it just makes time fly that mush faster.

Heh - 'mush' faster.  I'm leaving it in, because this is that kind of post.  All lovey-dovey and full of those weird adult feelings.  DEAL WITH IT.

Tiff out.

1

ALL THE DAYS!

New Year's Day.  The ultimate fresh start. 

I'm spending it how I'd like to spend the whole year, which is, I think, a tradition.  If not a tradition, then it's something I do year after year, hoping that how I spend this day will reflect how the year will go.  Some years it works better than others, and because I have yet to spend the entire year safely ensconced at home with a bubbling pot of beans on the stove and beams of bright sunlight illuminating just how much I need to dust, I will keep trying this tradition until one glorious day when it comes to pass that the juju worked.  Sometimes wishes do come true.

Tangentially, and yes there is a point, lately there has been some lamenting, on Facebook of all places, the great eater of blogs, regarding how much folks miss blogging and vow to make a return to it this year.  2015, the year of the blog.  Like stepping back a decade, when FB wasn't and we had to make our own fun like in the olden times!  Why, this blog is 9+ years old, and although the posting has slowed to a trickle of late but not shut down completely, I too feel like it's time to turn the taps back on and get a little creativity back into my life.  There's way too much time spent staring blankly as a parade of posts on social media and not enough time thinking of things or writing or experiencing life for real. 

What does this mean then?  Well, the title of this post has something to do with the one resolution that may be difficult to keep but we'll see how far I get.  It's back to the heyday, my friends, with that one resolution to be a post a day (save, perhaps, for weekends) to chronicle this new year.  There is no lack of topics to cover, what with the Things applying to colleges and moving on in their lives, with a possible new job, the professional life in transition, more house stuff going on (new siding, anyone?), life happening, and all the gossip news that, at least for this year, will be written down for history to take note of and perhaps learn from.

Other resolutions remain the property of me and me alone.   If I succeed at them, the year's end will make note of that too, and then we can revel together in my resoluteness.

We'll see how far I get, but if the notion that the way to you spend new year's day is the way you'll spend your year, then maybe I can affect the outcome on purpose and with reason and not let simple fate rule.  A post a day, just like it's 2005 all over again.

Wish me luck.

Is it a sign?

Because I'm a terribly lazy person by nature,  I sometimes find out interesting things while wasting time on the internet.  To wit: So many hairstyling videos!!!

Today, as I was 'driving' Google street view around the town in NY where I spent some growing up time, I was pleased to see that the Google car has made it around my old block and thus I could drive right past my former home (previously it was only viewable from a nearby road).  Imagine my surprise to see my car in the driveway! 

Really, it's right there in the picture!  Dodge Grand Caravan, dark blue, 2005-ish, just like Jiminy!  What are the chances of that sort of thing happening?

Spooooky!!!

Well, because being lazy can mean 'avoid all things you're supposed to do in favor of something you'd rather be doing,' I am going to make and attempt to figure out the probability associated with this happenstance.

According to an estimate I'm making based on more current numbers found on Wikipedia, between 100,000 and 200,000 of these vehicles were sold in the United States and Canada.  According to Kelley Blue Book dot com, about 11% of minivans are medium or dark blue.  Doing the math, that means between 11K and 22K dark blue Dodge Grand Caravans were sold in the US and Canada.

Let's assume that there's a population-equivalent distribution of Dodge Grand Caravans to make things a little easier.  New York state has an estimated population of 19,651,127 for calendar year 2013 (source), but we'll take out the population of NYC because the chances of someone who lives in the city driving a  Dodge Grand Caravan up to Vestal to park in in my old house's driveway are pretty remote, wouldn't you agree? Using the same estimation practices, the 2013 estimated population of NYC was 8,405,837.  That puts everything above NYC at a population of 11,245,290.  North Carolina has only 9,848,060 people estimated to be living here in 2013.

Still with me?  OK - the total estimated number of people living in the US in 2013 is 315 million.   Taking the lower estimate of 11,000 dark blue 2005 Dodge Grand Caravans made in 2005, there is ONE dark blue 2005 dodge grand caravan per every 28636 people. That means that there are 383 2005DBDGCs in NY and 344 of them in NC.  

To be more specific, the population of Vestal in 2010 was 28,043, which means that, with the maths we have done, there's less than 1 2005DBDGC in the whole town!

The population of Wake Forest in 2010 was 30,117, which indicates, given the assumptions made above, that there's slightly more than 1 (but let's call it 1) 2005DBDGC in town.  That one is Jiminy!  Science works!

Note: Even if the upper estimate was used, there would only be 1.9-ish 2005DBDGCs in Vestal and a smidge over 2 in Ye Olde Wake Foreste.  This means of course that (keeping in mind that because human beings basically move around in a semi-predictable Brownian fashion we have to work in an inconstant parameter for estimates of instability) the chances of that ONE 2005DBDGC being in the very specific location that it was when the Google car drove by on that sunny day in 2012 are something like one in  a BILLIONZILLION and that, my friends, is why you should pay attention in school.

So, given that the chances of that particular car being in that particular driveway at that VERY particular time are so very infinitesimal, is this the Universe trying to tell me something about OUR car?

Do you think there's a heap of cash stuffed in a seat or something?  A giant diamond wedged into a corner of a Stow'n'Go crevice?  A black hole in the coolant system?  Some Whos in the glove compartment?  What is the profound message in this circumstantial fleeting parallelism!?!  It can't all just be random chance, can it?

Can it?


*sigh*

I'm off to ponder the Universe and maybe go look for that hidden wad of cash - - Tiff out.

---

PS - I have made an error in my calculations.  Forgive me, Canada, for leaving you out of  the people/2005DBDGCs estimate.  But note my statement about being lazy?  I'm not going back to recalculate.  Just be aware that the one in a billionzillion chance is now about one in 1.3 billionzillion.

The Apocacabinet, plus many parentheticals

The Tiny House's kitchen is small.  Not tiny, because it's 15' x 15' in dimension, but really only one wall of that space has countertops or cabinets.   There is also a short run of cabinets on another wall, but that's built for linens and candles and game storage so I'm not counting it as purely 'kitchen' because it's the stuff you might find in a living room or family room in larger homes.  In the middle of the room is our kitchen table, in a corner is Biff's office space, and there are 4 doorways (!) so this one 15' wall is about all the space we have to work with, kitcheny things wise.

Because of the relative dearth of places to put normal kitchen stuff, a lot of our small appliances live on a shelf in the laundry/garbage/cat box (AKA 'pantry') room, which is fine because it's 2 steps to the left of the stove and therefore convenient (as are most things in Tiny Houses, which is a huge plus of living in one).  We keep all the baking items there too, as well as all cooking oils, vinegars, pasta (well, most of it), onions, potatoes, pet food, ...you get the drift.  Stuff we need routinely, which, as it turns out, is a lot of stuff!

Canned foods, which do NOT live in the pantry, have a wall cabinet to the right of the sink that we use to pull from first.  This puppy holds a LOT of canned goods; however, as a family that cooks at home nearly every day (and wants to be prepared if the Big One Drops), we run through a lot of this stuff fast (and want to have nice radiation-free grub for the Big One, obviously).  So, in the design of the kitchen reno a few years ago, we introduced a large cabinet above the refrigerator that we call 'The Apocacabinet.'

The Apocacabinet holds all the things that the pantry/other cabinet don't, as you might expect given its name and what I just explained to you.  But how much had been a mystery.  Stuff just  went in and got fished out.

Well, we went to the BJs today to do a $400 shop, and as a result the shelves and cabinets had to have stock switched to get the older stuff readily at hand and the newer duplicates/replacements into the Apocacabinet.  I got the bright idea to (finally) catalog everything that is IN the Apocacabinet, primarily to know what's in there so we don't overbuy something we already have (a glaring example of which is below), and I wanted to see what would fit into a reasonably stocked, but not full, Apocacabinet.  Because, science!

The real deal!

This, then, is what's in there:

10 pounds dry black beans
1 can dark red kidney beans
1 large can light red kidney beans
6 cans black beans


1 box Malt o' Meal (plain)
1 box Cheese-Its

3 pounds angel hair pasta
4 pounds elbow noodles

10 cans Rotel tomatoes
3 cans diced tomatoes
5 jars diced tomatoes
26 (!) small cans tomato paste
8 cans corn
3 cans french-style green beans

8 cans tuna

1 bag granola
2 bags Life cereal
1 bag Frosted Mini Wheats

1 large bag Pretzel crisps


A purty good haul, wouldn't you say?  It's clear that I can't keep inventory control over the tomato paste (26 cans?  Good grief, we'll need to rush out and buy more in a month!), but everything else is at a satisfying level of 'we have it if we need it,' which will be helpful in the event of a zombie attack or, more likely, crap weather that keeps us at home for a while (or the Big One!).  We'll not be starving, that's for sure, and are able to take advantage of sales and bargains because we have a place to put them.

Maybe that's what some folks use their garages for, but we don't have one of those either so we just have to make do.

Does that seem like a lot of food to keep on hand to you, or do you like to also have that cushion of 'oh no we don't need to go to the store yet, we have plenty!' like me?  Because I care, you'll share!

And with that,  Tiff out.

Flashy!

Flash fiction isn't dead, it would appear.  There's THIS running through tomorrow that y'all might want to be a part of.  Come on, you can do 150 words on what's the best way to orient your toilet paper (over!) so you can certainly write 150 on a vivid prompt, right?  It'll be like WordsmithsUnlimited 'lite'!

Go to the comment section to read the entries AFTER you've written your piece so that other folks' take on teh prompt won't bleed over into your own writing or dissuade you from even trying.

You're good enough, and people like you, so go.  Don't wait, just go.

Go!

---

There was an announcement this week at work that is very upsetting.  It affects thousands of people here in North Carolina in ways that are the Most Profound They Could Be short of just shuttering the whole works and throwing the company off a bridge.  Lives are being turned upside down in the name of....I don't even know what.  The decisions made make NO sense to me, but somehow they must to someone.

Sure hope the shareholders are happy.

Nobody around here is.

Which is why I didn't go to the group Holiday Celebration today.  I just don't have it in me.

But hey, if you know of anyone in the Triangle looking for a medical writer, I'm your gal.

---

As a result of the business news, I have found out one very unflattering thing about myself:  I can really sulk, HARD.  Spent the day yesterday avoiding doing any but the most necessary work and using the rest of that time to have a god fret about what the hell is going to happen to my life now.  To accede to the demanding plans for next steps as outlined by the company, we would have to pull up roots and I just not prepared to do that.  Oh, sure, if I decide NOT to follow the job there will be some monetary remuneration for me, but is that enough to wait until the company decides when that's going to happen or do I just strike out looking on my own NOW to lock down something 'sure'?

So hard to know what to do.  Perhaps  I should slink back to my corner and sulk some more.  It seems the only thing  I really want to do right now.

That, and hunt down whatever team of nincompoops came up with their brilliant plan to ruin my life and strangle them with their own Rolexes.  I also want to do that.  A lot.

---

Hope y'all are faring well and rolling with the punches.

Tiff out.

This thing could really take off!

Also this.

Currently I am wearing a pair of men's lounge pants in a festive flannel tartan.  It is 4 in the afternoon.  These are the same pants I slept in last night. 

This is why I love to work at home (WAH).

Every day can be pajama party day!

From time to time I am contacted by headhunters recruiters about possible new opportunities that involve 'home based contracts,' and I must confess here and now that the biggest draw for me to enter into that situation is the whole pajama thing.  Also, not having to drive to an office or talk to people, but the pajama thing ranks right up there.  If I wasn't so fearful of going into a contract situation and giving up my sweet benefits package, I might make the leap, but I'm not quite there yet.  I'm a creature of comfort, and part of that comfort comes from having a full-time job with a 401K and insurance.

I live about as far from 'the edge' as a person can, and having accepted that I can focus on important issues, like optimizing the temperature in the house while wearing pajamas in the middle of the day!!

Another bonus of WAH-ing: the food is free.  And good.  Also, the coffee is excellent.  The bathroom is private, which is terrific.  The commute is short, and my coworkers are fluffy and cute.  Heck, I can even get some chores done if I felt like it, which I rarely do, but I COULD and that's something to take to the bank, eh?

---

Yes, I know how lucky I am.  I used to work in a lab, where working from home was obviously NOT an option.

I used to be a waitress, and bartender, and radio announcer, and teacher, and McDonald's counter girl too, so I know how to show up for work and put in my time.  This is why I know how lucky I am.  I worked for 25+ years before I got a job that allowed this flexibility, so I am WELL aware of how soft the spot is on which I've landed.  Am grateful every dang day for it too.

Did you know that some kids coming out of college now are demanding that they  be allowed to work at home right from the get-go, even in positions that are better suited to co-working in an office space?  I take umbrage at this - those little snots haven't put in their TIME yet, they won't know the sweetly deep satisfaction of the 'special' days when pajamas and hoodies are the work outfit of the day instead of grown-up clothes that require things like shoes, and accessories, and makeup.  How, when they become older, will they enjoy achieving a position that allows them to cast off the shackles of the cubicle?  No no, I say, make them report to the office for at least 10 years, so they can develop the skills needed to get up each and every day to face the yoke of responsibility (and match their shoes to it)!!  Don't let them get away with it! 

Or at least, make them keep their webcam on at all times for monitoring.  Count the keystrokes!  Filter their web-browsing capabilities!  Lock down all other devices remotely until their spirits are squashed and they perform like the drones they were born to be, just like I was!!!

YES!!!  AMEN!!!

.
.
.
.

Oh.

All right, 5 years, and they can be released on their own recognizance.

I think we have a plan.

---


Tiff out.

What happened to fall?

Pinkies up!

This time last week?  70 degrees.

Today?  35, tops.

Bring fall back, whoever stole it from us.  This winter garbage is too much, too soon.

---

We bore the dog to utter death, I'm sure.  All we do is sit around doing our thing on teh glowy boxes, and hardly spend ANY time with him at all.  He gets in as much trouble as he does because I'm sure he's begging for attention, but how much attention can one dog gets while the human is trying to get work and stuff done?

So, he rips up used tissues and chases cats.

A dog does what he has to do to stay entertained in the waking hours.

---

Let's get back to this Winter thing for a mo, along a slight tangent, to wit:

How it is already the middle of November?

How is it almost time to haul out the Christmas stuff (ALMOST, I must note)?

How did this happen?  Wasn't Hallowe'en just last week?  Wasn't Independence day just a month before that?

The end of the year, that vaunted 'sell by' date for many of my work projects, is rushing hither at a fearful clip.  I'm afraid to  count the actual number of working days that are available to get everything done I said I would.  Shhh!  Don't tell me, either.  I don't want to know.  Really, I do NOT want to know.

It won't be enough, is all I'm saying.

---

Did you know that Will Smith's daughter has control over time?

Rich kids.  Sheesh.  They get whatever they ask for.

---

Thing 1 started working last week.  He's a tea-rista at the pinkies-out store in the local mall.  Fancy Schmancy!  For a first job, this one's pretty dang sweet, I think.  No deep frying required, no bagging groceries or fetching carts or washing cars for that boy, oh no.  Straight to the indoor retail customer service experience!

Hope he knows how good he's got it.  Because compared to closing a McDonald's at 2:30 a.m. while angry drunk people fight in the parking lot and your hair smells like grease and you've been on your feet for 8+ hours wearing a horrible uniform, his first job seems positively peachy.

---

Also, Happy Anniversary to my parents.  Number 58, though they only got to celebrate 35 of those together.  Time is short for all of us, for my Dad way too short.  Still miss him, 23 years later.

Man, time does indeed fly. 

We'll talk soon,
Tiff out.

Two in a row!

So, maybe the floodgates have opened.  Let's liveblog a moment, this one.

Wish it was my quote...

-I am at the kitchen table, facing away from the window and toward wonderful new art.  The art makes me happy in a way I can't describe, though it's much akin to the warmth felt when a baby is lying peacefully on one's chest, napping, and the day is sunny and the temps are balmy and dinner's already on the stove.  Like I maybe somehow birthed these things that are beautiful and peaceful and still allow me to make dinner.

Love the arts. (Check is on the way, Ms. Artist!)

-Wern just gave a big-boy growl at the front door, because a dog was out there, being walked.  This is the first time he's shown any 'warning' about dogs, or people, but probably that's because it's dark now and maybe he's beginning to know he's a separate being with Jobs To Do.  I don't know; it was an admirable effort on his part and I was glad when a simple 'hey Wern, whatcha doin'?' took him off his wag-tail alarm,

-Today was about as beautiful as day as there will ever be.  High autumn color, warm temps, golden sunshine, high wispy clouds that nobody could possibly walk on, no matter how ethereal their being.  Pretty sure God designed this day just for himself, so he could maybe play a round of golf without the slightest chance of being rained on.  Good going, God!

-I haven't really cooked since Sunday.  This might be a record.  'Pretend' Thanksgiving was Sunday, leftovers casserole Monday, NOTHING last night.  Not a pot was sullied, not an onion pierced 'round, not a dish warmed except by the microwave.  It was kind of nice, but I'm ready to cook again.  Two nights off is enough to fill my Energy Bars for another night in kitchen central.

-We are now about to stuff a puzzle ball for Wern, so he can cavort and I can sizzle up some dinner ideas while the crickets chirp outside and night descends even more deeply on this tiny nugget of Earth.

Let's talk soon,
Tiff

Girl Trouble (for ladies and sympathetic men)

(I suspect I've posted about this before, so apologies in advance.  I'm just...so over this)

---

Bodies are wonderful things, mysterious and unpredictable, wouldn't you agree?

Like, sometimes, my body forgets how to swallow and I wind up aspirating a spit bubble or coffee or whatever isn't supposed to be in my lungs, and BOOM!  Instant highly troubling splutter session.  Much fun trying to gasp around that bolus of liquid that, if the body remembered properly what it was supposed to do, would already by in the stomach where it belongs.

Or, sometimes, intestines can play beautiful music, rather loudly and in a disturbing fashion much resembling a badger or active bubbling tar pit.  Usually when in meetings or when the cube farm is aggravatingly quiet.

Or, like when the brain decides to stop remembering the names of super-important movie characters during a conversation and then coughs it up in the middle of a dream cycle so that Alan Rickman is your cab driver in Puffy City, where you're about to purchase a new hotel only you forgot to get dressed and the towel you're still wearing from your shower just keeps getting smaller and smaller and smaller, then you're in a parade on a float and the towel is now a washcloth so you're glad you've been named Grand Marchall so at least you can use the sash to cover up one boob and you still have one hand free to wave.

Note: quote not by an actual old lady

Or, as happened today, old lady lady-parts that should have gone quiescent long ago decide to behave like it's 1989 again and issue forth proof that uterine lining does still exist and wants you to look at it!  LOOK!  Still there, or, more properly, HERE.  Surprise!!

It's said that menopause can take between 5 and 10 years to complete.  My body?  A trickster, and at 8 years into the process I can with certainty say that it is pulling some fast ones wit this latest incident.  Good grief, the whole monthly shebang completely STOPPED for 2 years a couple of years ago, and there was much relieved breathing throughout the land.

But no.

It's back.

What started is extremely uneven pacing when I was 44, with bursts of extreme over-production followed by long gaps in between times turned into a slowly decreasing frequency, which was nice, then full stop.  For a year.  Then things got going again for about 6 months, then full stop.  For 2 years.  Now this.

I would like to state that this is NOT going according to plan.  This should have been done and over with that first time the production line shut down, can I get an Amen on that?  All this crazy dang off and on is aggravating, and sheesh.  Come ON.  I am 52, it's time for me to sprout some (more) chin whiskers and begin the transformation into a little old man, isn't it?

Stupid estrogen, anyhow.

If you are lady of a certain ago, does all this sound normal to you or is my body an overachiever in the 'longest menopause EVER' category?  Because, really, isn't 8 years enough??

Well, at least I know why I've been so irritable the last couple of days.  There's the bright side, I suppose.

Tiff out.

Pig ears and haystacks

Himself, the Werninator

We have had the Wernstrom for just over 3 weeks now, and I'd have to say it's going pretty well.  He's not yet chewed up any piece of furniture to the point of irretrievability, hasn't had an accident in the house in more than 2 weeks, sleeps pretty well at night, and has met very rarely with the pointy end of either cat.

Probably because he's 1) supervised at all times that he's out of his crate and 2) crated when we're not around.  Left to his own devices, he'd likely have chewed a hole through the back door and eaten all the decorative mulch and firepit leavin's.

He's a dear, that one.

And just got $50 of new toys today, for Biff is a softie and Wern is a teething mess of puppy that needed a trip to the PetSmart this afternoon to distract him (Wern) from all the luscious not-puppy toys there are to play with at the Tiny House.

Which is why dried pig ears are such a blessing.  We should really purchase them in bulk, they are so perfect for him.  One will keep him gnawing away for over an HOUR, which means his sharp pupster teeth aren't on 1) us, 2) the cats, 3) our shoes, 4) the furniture, 5) the kitchen cabinets, 6) the carpet, 7) the gel mat in the kitchen ,8) ohyougettheidea,

Pigs to whom those ears used to belong, I salute and thank you.

---

Yahoo concerts last night sucked me in with visions of a human haystack trilling as nicely as a Hagridded-up Geddy Lee, and thus I watched, amazed, for fully 20 minutes before trying to figure out what on Earth I was watching besides perhaps Snuffeluppagus' human cousin IN A BAND.

Well, it was in fact good ol' Coheed and Cambria, who are it seems a rather popular band among certain segments of the population who are oh, about half my age.  Who'd a thunk it?  Here is a picture of their very talented lead singer:

I am not at all kidding.

Out of this wall o' fuzz came a Very Good Voice Indeed, an the band seemed to be having fun as did the audience who knew the words to songs I've never heard of and it seemed a jolly good time.

Some people know this band, or their progeny do, and because progeny treat this group as small gods, I will have to say they are worth a listen, even if you're not into their genre.  I was impressed by the haystack up there, and what shouldn't be too surprising a turn of events, he's actually kind of cute and approachable looking when not Cousin It'ing it up.

And cute, it never hurt a soul.

---

Lastly, I tied my hair in a knot today, because I did not think ahead and bring something with me to help keep it out of my face.  It might be my new go-to 'do, as the lack of clips/pins/elastics = no pulling/tugging/pain and that is a good dang thing, y'all.

Twist the hair, make a loop, shove the end through the center, pull tight.  Done.

Best for hair with 'texture,' which is to say at least wavy.  My lovely niece, for example, wouldn't be able to do this, for Asian hair is lush and thick and strong and slippery as all get out.  That knot would fall out lickety split, which is a curly girl's revenge for never being able to really fully comb out their hair due to insta-tangling and that haystack thing that's going on up there (^) if we DARE run a comb through it when dry.

Silver linings, people.

Tiff out.

A few short things

Almost exactly Eric, not at all Wern.

Wern the puppy has much more success playing with Eric the cat than he does with Mutzi the cat.  At least Eric doesn’t start OUT a play session with claws and hissing.  We’ll see how it goes once Wern loses the puppy teeth and get those big chompers; sure hope he learns to temper this enthusiasm a little bit too, or he’s going to get 13 pounds of kitty fury right in the face.

Been hanging out at home in the morning with the puppy, just to 1) bond and 2) not leave him to seriously long periods of time that puppy bladders just can’t handle.  He’s been really good about not doing his stuff in the house, and I want to keep it that way.  He’s crated, so the mess potential is confined, but I don’t want him to suffer needlessly.  Fortunately, my meeting load at work is minimal at this point, so me being at home ad not putting in 8 hours of face time a day isn’t really an issue.

More of an issue is the workload I DO have, which involves me working with a a group in India to process a metric buttload of documents through compliance checking and upload to our document repository.  Currently I’m handling the processing of 16 study reports, 13 of which contain only 4 documents for processing, the others are ‘legacy’ documents that need to be prepped for regulatory submission.  EACH document goes through a separate compliance and upload process, with individual emails sent for each stage of the process.  This morning, I received 13 review requests or requests for more information, which gets me all itchy and wanting to head for the hills.  Clearly I have a very low tolerance for this kind of thing, and I can hear many of you laughing at what I consider to be an onerous load, but I don’t care, this is ME I’m talking about and my perfect world involves me, alone, doing my thing and just handing it off at the end of the day.  All these people wanting me to actually do stuff is offputting, I say.

I’m going to a memorial service tomorrow for a former teacher.  Her husband was in the Fairfax County school system too, and used to judge solo and ensemble festivals and auditions for regional band.  He and I go back a loooong way, and they, coincidentally, happen to be good friends with one of my college roommates and her husband.  It is a small small world people, you just never know when your circles will cross and Venn diagram the heck right out of you.

In closing, let me wish you all a wonderful weekend.  Go out and do something terrific with it, even if that means lying around on your couch drinking iced coffee and reading the latest trashy novel you picked up from the dollar bin at your local used bookstore.  Because that does sound pretty terrific, doesn’t it?

Tiff out.

Well, how about weekly?

Let's try this again this week, since it was reasonably painless last week.

Microblog Mondays!

---

Currently I am at the 'office' listening to the following:

• people at the coffee machine
• someone's teleconference regarding developing future research plans
• a 1-on-1 as to how to move forward with a series of lab experiments
• numerous other people typing
• toilets flushing
• clicky-clacky high heels zipping down the 'hallway' between my cube and the 'call center' room that's in the middle of our building

As opposed to most other times when I would complain about all that noise, noise, noise, noise, I will not today because it masks the noises that my GI tract is making.

And that's all I shall say about that.

Wern pics tomorrow.

Tiff out.

An idea I can get behind

So, Neil posted something on Facebook that made me go read his blog that was started by Melissa that  I think is a pretty keen idea, so I'm going to do it to, right here in front of you.

(drum roll, please!)

I'm microblogging.

The idea, and it's revolutionary in its potential to scene shift online interaction, might I add, is thusly: post something once a week on our blogs that we would normally do on social media.

The idea, naturally, is to get BLOGGING going again, which I'm totally behind.  More specifically, get personal blogging going again, which I can really really get behind.  I very much miss reading the rounds on a daily basis, and do miss the days of long lists of entries to pore over before hitting the day's work.  

So, I'm doing it.  Like this:

Wern has placed his wee fuzzy body (21.5 pounds as of today!)  under the table where I'm working in such a way that I can have my feet only exactly where they are and noplace else.  I love that.

See?  A tiny post!  I love this idea also.

If you choose to do this as well, do it fast and you can get your name on the blogroll of participants, and maybe a few new readers.  Who doesn't need more of THAT?

The invitation

Good times...

Hello There Fellow Bloggers!

Here's how the blog tour works. You answer the four basic questions.

1) What are you currently working on?

2) How does your work differ from others in the same genre?

3) Why do you write what you write?

4) Describe your writing process.

When you've answered them--how does this week look?--you post them on your blog with an explanation of the blog tour. I will take a day--maybe this Thursday?--and write an intro for each of you. If you could send me a picture and a short bio, that would help out in the introduction.

If this week isn't good, just let me know when is.

I'm looking forward to reading your responses.

And thanks for participating!

---

Y'all.

A BLOG TOUR!!!

This kind of thing is SO 2006, and the invite came from SUCH a lovely and talented person, how could I NOT participate? A chance to turn back time at the request of someone who is lovely and talented? Heck yes I'll give it a shot!

Let's dive in then, shall we?

1) Currently I am not working on any writing project except what I get paid to do at work. But that's kind of boring stuff, so let's just say I've been letting an idea kick around for a while now that, when written, could either be a) a horror novel or b) a YA fantasy story. While I'm comfortable with horror, as those of you who have been around a while know (checkout Wordsmiths Unlimited for samples. (Good grief it's been more that 5 years since we updated that site!)), the YA thing would be much more of a challenge but I think that's where this idea is going. When I dreamed it, it wasn't scary, even though there's strong potential for it to be. So, just letting that one simmer, and bemoaning that fact that a pretty detailed outline I did of it disappeared in a BSOD episode a few years back. You can tell I'm into this idea because I actually wrote an outline, which is unusual for me because normally the things I write aren't long enough to require one (500 words = basic plots and little in the way of twisting them).

2) How does my work differ from others in the same genre? Genre? Hmmm. Do I have one of those? I'd have to go back and look at some of my old stuff, but right off the bat I'd say that my better writing has kind of a dreamlike quality in which odd things can happen that seem plausible at the moment of reading. Taking a dive fully clothed into a Russian swimming pool, for one, or that story with the novice nun and the sun ceiling. When I let my mind go wandering, I'm often surprised by what it comes up with. I usually have to force myself to NOT kill someone off, which isn't necessarily a very flattering thing to say about myself. So, deadly and dreamlike, I guess. Also sometimes more adult themes, that tend to be on the dark side. I sound like a horrible person now.

Moving on.

3) I write what I write (or DID write what I wrote, more particularly), because it's the one creative outlet I have besides cooking. I'm not good and handicrafts or other arts, and I felt like the company of other people willing to participate in a writing challenge and participate in critiquing our collective outputs was helping me write better in so many ways. Have what was a weekly challenge was a fantastic way to spend some time immersed in creativity, and even my worst efforts were generally useful exercises. I miss that. Might have to air it out and see if anyone else wants to play.

4) Writing process was alluded to earlier, but that's for really long work (which I never completed). In general, for the shorter pieces, it's cogitate, write write write like crazy for as long as it takes the story to get out, then walk away. Leave for a day, go back and editeditedit. If I'm happy with the piece, if it says what I want it to, then I might just leave it there, but typically I'll go back for a second round of editing before releasing it into the wild. If it's poetry (which I love to do but don't think I'm really all that good at), then the editing can take a heck of a lot longer or may not ever happen, because poetry is like that - sometimes what comes out first is really what you meant to say and nothing can or should change that.

All this being said, it's been a long time since I wrote creatively. If you look at the number of blog posts I've done recently it's evident that my writing has fallen off drastically in the last couple of years, which I'm trying to rectify by just pulling up Blogger and starting something. I suppose that's why I was happy to be invited to do this blog tour; it's a reason to start thinking about writing again and how good it feels to have the words flowing, becoming something that wasn't before. That's the goal of creativity, isn't it?

So, at some future point this entry will be linked from The Talented and Lovely Person's blog along with entries from other people who write things. It will be interesting to see who they are and how they work and what they produce. It's beyond time to open up the Big Box of Ideas and get creatively cracking again!

Let me know if you'd like to play along - I might just root around and find the key to wordsmiths and see if it starts up again!

Tiff out.

Before noon today

Lordy it's been a morning.  What have we done so far at the Tiny House?

Well, I made biscuits and eggs and sausage for us all after waking up the kids at the unholy hour of 10 a.m.

Cleaned that up, put way the clean dishes from yesterday, washed the dirties.

Biff and I poisoned the cats (AKA - flea treated them)

Folded 4 loads of laundry while the kids mowed the yard.

Cleared off my bedside shelf, decided I need to dust more.

Biff got rid of all the spiderwebs from the front porch and powerwashed it.

CAJ installed a clean shower curtain,  I laundered the gross one and the dishmat.

MLJ and I took out the recycling.

Scrubbed down the stovetop.

Bleached the kitchen sink to brand-new shinyness.

Now, to take a shower before heading out on college tours this afternoon.

And it's only just past noon.

What a day!

Hope your is fine and dandy - Tiff out.

I don't need this, take it back

Comfier than it looks.

Hey guys,

Whoever ordered a case of abdominal cramps with a side of chills and nausea - it came to my house and your should feel free to come pick it up any old time.  Like, how about now?  Sure, I'm in my PJs and the house is a mess, but I really want to give this to you because I DID NOT ORDER IT!

Oh, and could you please stop and pick up a pack of TP?  I've used so much of it that we must nearly be out.  Spent so much time on the throne today that I've read almost all the way through the latest issue of the "Experimental Aircraft Association's" magazine, and while I'm learning a lot it's not how I'd envisioned my day going.  However, I can point you to an interesting article about how one man learned to fly powered paragliders if you like.

Did you also order up that one serving of vomiting?  That was a nice challenge as I was already seated, but thankfully the trash can was right next to me and, when one is pressed for options, one does what one must.  I think I used up all the vomiting, but please do take that with you as well if you'd been expecting more than one dose.

SO done with this.

Tiff (*bleah) out.

Maybe I'll just go back to bed

*Sigh*

Those are the headlines from WRAL.com a the moment.  Personal information in jeopardy, but yay for steakhouse nommies IF you happen to survive the dreaded blue-green (why not just call it teal?) algae or possible rabies or rampaging 12-year-olds brandishing a shiv or freaking EBOLA.

Never mind about those gigantic sinkholes opening up in Siberia as a result of the Earth getting the burps.

It's getting so I don't want to leave the house anymore.  At least in here I'm pretty sure we don't have rabies, algae, murderous tweens, or sinkholes.  Don't have a steakhouse, either, which is kind of sad.

---

Played 'Cards Against Humanity' with a young couple the other night after we fed them dinner.

He used to be my pastor.

Should we have played Bridge instead?

---

I have a friend who is very active in dog rescue, and she keeps putting pictures of adorable lab puppies (her organization of choice is geared toward Labs) on her FB page.  It's a terrible thing to do, wouldn't you agree?  All those people who are her friends see these cute lil' puppies and read the pleadings to help foster them and have to live with the GUILT of not doing so.  Mean trick to play on some one you call 'friend,' right?

(Truth - It's so tempting to foster a puppy.  The committment is short-term, generally, so none of this 'watching them grow old' garbage that's such a pain.  Very tempting indeed.  But still a nefarious method of introducing the possibility, I'm sure you would agree.)

So.  Word of warning.  If you and I are FB buddies, do NOT get involved with rescues or other noble pursuits and them start putting up pictures of the cuteness that needs a little love, because I will then think you are a meanie too, and you don't want that, do you?

Glad we had this little talk.  Tiff out.

Here we go again

We're headed out once more to try to finish up Oldfriend's kitchen reno that's been keeping us (mostly Biff) occupied every weekend since late May, except for the last three weekends (because, vacation and other stuff to do).  Really hoping that this is it, because I'm sure she wants us out of her hair and I'm sure Biff wants to know what it's like to sleep in, mosey, relax, or catch up on the things around here that we've let slide.

Like, our garden.

Oh, we had high hopes in March that our little seeds would flourish into strong healthy, well-bearing plants, that we'd be canning fools and swimming in homemade salsa by now, that we'd have a bonus of squash so large our neighbors would hide when we came laden down to ring their doorbells.  Such hope.  So wrong.

Two weeks ago I had the kids rip out the zucchini and squash because their fruits were small, rotting on the vine before they could be picked, and sparse.  The strawberrys came out too, as the rabbits were eating most of them.  I left the volunteer pumpkin, and the tomatoes are finally starting to ripen, but that's all that's out there now.  It's sad, really.  It was supposed to have borne spinach and broccoli and lettuce and peas as well, but that just didn't happen.

Hopes, adjusted.  We'll try for some fall crops I suppose, and see if that yields anything of interest.

If not, it all gets plowed under and we start again next spring.

AFTER I find some way to dye my thumbs green.

How does YOUR garden grow??

In other news

I wore a skirt today.

First time in years.

It was, and is, very comfortable.

Except for the chub rub on the inner thigh.

Which resulted in a less-than-feminine walking stance.

I need to work on this skirt thing some more, obviously.

Still, it's pretty and swooshy and I love it and it's not too see-through.  Will wear again.

Thanks, Ruth, for letting me shop in your closet.

Seven years ago

Wow.

Been a long time.