Gang aft a-gley

I was going to take a picture of my nearly-ready-for-winter flower bed, but it turns out my camera's battery is dead. By the time it finishes charging I will have lost the light. Ah well. Best-laid schemes and all that.

Today was very probably one of the last warm weekends we'll have until spring. I'd put off tending the garden a couple weekends in a row, but today? Today was my last best chance.

So I pulled out almost all the annuals--I left in the red verbena, a few of the pansies, and one of the gerbera daisies because they're all still producing blooms. I cut back the perennials, covered the roots of the rose bush with leaves I found on the edge of the property (why buy mulch when it's literally falling at your feet, eh?), and planted some bulbs for next year. Over the course of the summer I've noticed chipmunks in my garden, and there have been holes appearing in the flower bed where the crocuses came up this year. I've decided to plant a mix of daffodil varieties (including one called Avalon, which I've never seen before), since no critter seems to like the taste of them. Or so I've been told by a few more experienced gardeners. I also planted allium bulbs near the wall of the house in the sections that get more sun, and an oriental poppy in the rounded-off section at the end.

I'll post a picture of the garden tomorrow. Here's one of what it looked like in the height of summer:



And of the other half of the garden:



Later on that summer, I crawled around on the ground to get some good shots of the zinnias:



I like this one. Shows them in all stages of bloom:



And I have to include my favorite shot of the sunflowers!



There. I wonder if I've choked Blogger with all these pictures. Time to hit "publish" and find out.

Short one today...

...'cause I'm feeling a little under the weather. I changed into nice warm flannel jammies sometime around 5 pm and have been dozing on the couch, under a quilts, a furry blanket, and a cat, half-watching the ID channel (true crime TV. Using 48 Hours as a bedtime story? Yeah, I'm a little weird). Woke up with a jolt 15 minutes ago realizing I hadn't posted anything yet today.

So here I am! [waves frantically]

And now I'm out. Tomorrow is the return of Snapshot Sunday. I think I called it Photo Sunday last year. I like the alliteration, so I'm changing the name. Anyway, Tomorrow I'll drag out my camera and try to find something picture-worthy.

How the CSA went

Got an email earlier this week saying that the CSA harvest is done for the year.

I'd say my experiment with community supported agriculture was a limited success. I found myself a little flummoxed as to what to do with some of the things I got, but all in all I enjoyed it. Ate more vegetables this summer than I did last year, and did a whole lot more "from scratch" cooking. Two recipes I'm definitely adding to my permanent stash this year? Fennel and Potato Gratin and Baked Gnocchi with Chard and Ricotta. I never managed to get a picture of either dish, but they were both very tasty. Both recipes came in issues of the CSA's bulletin--they were always giving us ways to use some of what we're taking home.

Here's the recipe for the potato/fennel thing. I'll post the gnocchi recipe later on this month (don't want to use up all my ideas the first week, now do I?):

Fennel & Potato Gratin (Originally from Farmer John's Cookbook)
2 cups fennel bulb, cut crosswise into 1/8 inch slices
2 cups thinly sliced potatoes
salt
pepper
2 cups half-and-half (or whole milk for less richness)
2 Tbsp butter

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly coat a shallow 2-qt. baking dish with butter.
2. Cover the bottom of the baking dish with a layer of fennel slices. Cover with half the potato slices. Sprinkle salt and pepper to taste. Repeat layers until you've used up all the slices.
3. Bring the half-and-half to a gentle boil in a medium pan over medium-high heat. Pour it over the fennel and potato.
4. Using a large spatula, press down on the top layer to submerge it. Dot with butter. Bake until potatoes are tender and the top is golden, about 1 hour.

I had this with chicken sausage and some applesauce. Yum.

I already signed up for next year's crop, a half share. Because I signed early I get a discount.

Next major purchase (aside from a chair for the living room. Unless this is cheaper, in which case it might get bought first)? A small deep freezer. I'm gonna be a blanchin', freezin', puttin' things by kind of girl next summer. I was won over to the process late in the game, and could have kicked myself when I thought of all the stuff that went bad before I could use it. That won't happen next year, though. I will be ready. 'Cause now I have an idea what to expect.

Holiday plans continued

Thanksgiving plans are shaping up.

I sent out a tentative menu to my mom and sister, and they've offered to bring: sweet potato casserole & dessert (Ditter), stuffing, baked corn (also called corn pudding), olives, pickles, and rolls (Mom). This frees me up to do a little more here. Along with the turkey, I'm going to make Brussels sprouts with mustard butter (found the recipe here when I was looking for instructions on how to blanch them). And I'm going to do some sort of glazed carrots thing. And mashed turnips, which seems to be another family tradition. I've never seen them anywhere but my family's table. And someone at work gave me a recipe for stuffed acorn squash that I may or may not use.

My sister thinks the Lancaster contingent will only be here until Friday morning. I'm going to book a room at a hotel around the corner for her in-laws. Things are kind of tight here. I still have very little furniture, and Mrs. S. had trouble with stairs anyway -- the big bathroom is upstairs. The downstairs powder room is so small there isn't room to change your mind in it.

My parents are staying until Saturday, I think. I'm hoping Friday morning before 1/2 of my family heads off to Lancaster we can get together for breakfast at the restaurant attached to my sister's in-law's hotel.

I need to buy some folding chairs. And some sort of tie-on covers for the two chairs from the craft room so they look a little more festive. Or less shabby. Whichever.

I also want to buy some sort of armchair or recliner for the living room. I need more furniture than I have, but dang! Furniture's expensive. We have a couple second-hand shops around here, but most of them are actually antique shops masquerading as used furniture places. It's frustrating walking into a store and seeing a beat-up armchair for the cost of a new one. And not feeling able to afford either.

But hey! Back to holidays! Dinner for seven! Two dogs! Overnight guests! Three weeks (more or less) to prepare! Yeeeeee-haw!

I need to lie down now.

Time-wasting

Well, the DVRing of Grey's Anatomy isn't working like I planned. I got home half an hour after the start of the 1st of three last night, went to the DVR menu and watched the start of it. Sped through the commercials, was only 15 minutes behind the 2nd one. By episode 3 I was watching it live.

Today? Yep. Watching it as I type.

Silver lining though: tomorrow the series starts over from the beginning. I can get those episodes from Netflix, so I don't need to watch 'em right now.

--Later--

Yikes. What a way to end a season. Two main characters who might be dead?

Now maybe I can get some work done.

Ha!

Holiday planning on election day

Today I made up a tentative Thanksgiving menu and emailed it off to my mom and sister to see what they thought of it. Nothing earth-shaking, though there are one or two things I've either never made and/or have never been part of our Thanksgiving tradition.

Sweet potato casserole, for example. Ditter's mother-in-law served that on the Thanksgiving immediately before Ditter and Stretch got married (and I do mean immediately. The wedding was two days later). I liked that a lot, and am heartily sick of candied yams every year, so I'm going to try this. It's not the yams I dislike, really, it's cleaning the electric frying pan Mom makes them in. It's full of this hardened caramel goo that practically takes dynamite to get rid of. Ugh. No thanks.

I'm also making baked corn from a Weight Watcher's recipe, and I'm gonna try making Average Jane's Cranberry Sauce instead of the canned stuff -- I may even do the spiced up version.

I was going to make a carrot leek soup I've been playing with all summer, but I think I've talked myself out of that. I'll save fancy stuff for another year, after I have the basics down.

Oh, and I voted today. We had some judges to elect for the PA supreme court, some local judges, a planning commission, a district attorney, and a mayor to elect for the borough.

I'm interested to see whether Maine votes to allow same-sex marriage.

And now, even though it's only 9:30ish, I'm heading off to bed. I think I'm coming down with something.

In which it is revealed that I have run out of subject matter. Already.

Oh, for pity's sake! Last year I was all chatty the whole way through the month. This year I'm staring at a blank window, the little cursor taunting me with it's flash, flash, flash go on write something flash, flash, flash I dare ya. On Day 2. Day freaking Two.

Nothing has happened today. Not one blessed thing. You know how I spent my day? Futzing about with OpenOffice software, trying to create an electronic version of the flowchart the CQI Team I'm part of came up with to describe our current procedures. It's the most convoluted if/then chart I've ever seen, I'm on page 6, and I'm nowhere near done.

When I wasn't doing that, I was slapping barcodes on books as part of a national project my library's signed up to help with. Then I was entering said barcodes into the database.

Riveting stuff, absolutely riveting.

Oh, and then I came home and instead of doing the chores I'd planned to do (wrote 'em on the whiteboard and everything) I watched three hours of Grey's Anatomy on Lifetime. I managed to avoid the show for years when everyone around me was singing its praises only to get sucked into it now that it's in syndication. Two weeks ago (when I was on vacation) I bumped into an episode while I was flipping channels, got interested, and stayed. This episode was followed by a second. And then a third. And then it was nine o'clock at night! Where'd my evening go?

That's just evil, you guys. To run three hour-long episodes, in sequential order, back-to-back four days a week? How the heck am I supposed to get anything done? Don't these people know I have a list of stuff as long as my arm that I have to finish by Thanksgiving? That my messy house needs organizing, that my menu needs creating, that my garden needs tending? Those dishes aren't going to do themselves!

I've done a preemptive strike for tomorrow. I've set the DVR. I am not allowed to turn on the TV at all when I get home. I'll watch this stuff later. Never mind that Izzy's about to undergo brain surgery, Derek's coming back to operate after having a dark moment where he thought about quitting medicine altogether, or that I think this next episode is the one where he finally proposes to Meredith. Aaah! How can people who I didn't even know about four weeks ago (and who aren't even real) take up so much of my time now?

Lord help me.

So tell me, blogosphere, what's you're newest time suck?

And away we go!

All righty, here we go. Day One of National Blog Posting Month (hereafter called NaBloPoMo or OhmyGodwhatdidIgetmyselfinto). There's a link to the left (just under the one for my poor neglected Flick'r photostream), if you'd like to go exploring and read other bloggers who are trying this as well.

Eden (the originatorof NaBloPoMo, and writer of Fussy) posted today about her likes and dislikes. That sounds like a good way to start, so I'ma do that.

Dislikes:

• The way the cat howls like a tortured soul every time she takes a drink from her water fountain. The thing has a charcoal filter, uses distilled water, and get thoroughly cleaned and replenished once a week. She's still rather drink out of the tub. Brat.
• Opening my wallet to find the $60 I got at the ATM 6 hours before has been stolen. I've never been a victim of theft before last week. Someone wandered into my cubicle, emptied the cash out of my wallet, and strolled back out, unseen. The officer who filed my report the next day said there was a rash of thefts all over campus that day. All of 'em cash from wallets. Nothing else stolen, no IDs or credit cards or checks. My first thought was that the end of the month is approaching, and someone couldn't make rent.
• Spending approximately two hours dismantling a set of vertical blinds and replacing them with curtains. As I tweeted earlier today: bring me the head of whoever installed these blinds. I was dripping with sweat and swearing like a sailor after trying to remove just one screw from the three brackets that held the blinds in place. And I was using power tools, too!
• Packaging that's harder to break into than the average house. I needed sharp implements and a screwdriver to get the blasted curtain rods out of the box they came in.

Likes:

• Thermal, light-blocking drapes. Gonna be warmer in here this winter, I'm sure of it.
• Making it through October for the 2nd year in a row without contracting asthmatic bronchitis! Yay team!
• Related like: Autumn! Again! Finally!
• The way a full moon looks when it rises behind a maple tree that's gone all orange. (And me without my camera. Next year for sure!)
• Waking up to the cat purring around my head.
• Bonne Maman's cherry preserves.
• This:
  

And there's NaBloPoMo, Day One. See you tomorrow!

Let's see if I can do this twice

National Blog Posting Month starts this Sunday. I signed up last year and did manage to post every single day in November.

This coming November looks to be a little bit busier than last year. Thanksgiving dinner is being held at my house for the first (and, if I go completely mental over it, maybe the last) time. There's a bit to do to get ready -- stuff I kept putting off all summer, knowing that I really needed to do it and also knowing that I need a deadline breathing down my neck before I can kick into high gear. I'm already feeling a slight twitch around the eyelid when I think of all the stress to come. So I probably shouldn't be wasting my time trying to post every day in November.

I just signed up to do it, though. What's that old saw? You want something done, give it to a busy person (*Juvenile snicker* I almost typed "busty person." I crack me up. It's not very difficult to do, as you can see).

So anyway, come! Watch me lose my mind in November. It should be fun. Or informative. Or something.

High as a kite

...the cat, not me.

I'm beginning to notice a trend. Every time I take vacation, the cat winds up at the vet. Yesterday afternoon, I was watching TV in the living room, and she came downstairs to get a drink of water. I noticed as she was going back up the stairs that she was only using three feet.

Uh-oh.

I chased after her, retrieved her from under the bed (another uh-oh. Why is she hiding?) and made her walk for me. She wouldn't let the back foot even touch the floor.

And so, it looked like we were off to the vet's. I called and managed to get the very last time slot available on a Friday afternoon. It wasn't the vet we usually see, but I didn't really care. This woman felt all over both Lolly's back feet, massaging and stretching and probing with her fingers to see if there was one particular spot that hurt worse than the rest. Lolly didn't cry out or flinch or anything, just showed a general desire to get away. Then the vet checked her back. Nothing wrong there either. There was a little bit of swelling with the boo-boo back foot, but that seems consistent with her diagnosis: she thinks the cat has sprained the flexor muscles in her right back foot. She thinks Lolly probably jumped off of something and landed wrong.

The vet gave me some pain killers to give the cat, (in liquid form. Hurray, now there are two syringes to keep track of!), and if things don't improve I'm to bring her back for an x-ray on Monday.

Things are improving. She's putting some weight on it now, though she's still limping. When she walks at all. This stuff works like morphine, the vet said. The cat spends a lot of time either asleep or looking stoned. Seriously. She sat here on the sofa for the better part of the evening with pupils as big as saucers, limp as Frieda's cat (from Peanuts). That was just after I gave her the meds. She's more alert and active right now. She just walked past me as I typed this, and the limping is much less pronounced than it was earlier in the evening. Partly pain meds, partly healing, I hope.

Silver lining, though -- my usual vet had said something about trying to make the cat gain some weight. It's hard to do. She'll only eat as much as she wants and then leave the rest. We're making some progress, though. She was 7.5 lbs last visit. Yesterday she was 8.3. Huzzah!

Truth in advertising

Walk it out

I've started to use Brizzly to keep track of my Twitter feed. It's still in beta test mode, which means I had to be invited to join. I'm hoping they get out of beta soon. I like it lots, and I think other people will, too. It does things I wish Twitter did, like expanding the links someone sends me, or if the links are to photos inserting the photo along with the tweet. It refreshes automatically. It tells me which of the people I follow are also following me. I am not limited to the last 20 tweets on a screen.

I know this is all blahblahblah to people who don't use Twitter, but if you do and you want to try Brizzly, I have nine invitations left to join it. Gimme a holler in the comments box & I'll send you one.

Today, though, it's been up and down a lot -- Twitter's having issues with client feeds, or something (I know, I'm hot when I talk tech. If I knew what I was saying, I'd be even hotter, right?). Here's the notice they put up, accompanied by this hilarious (to me, anyway) link to a YouTube video:

Twitter's having trouble serving their tweets to other clients. So Brizzly may be temporarily unavailable. We'll be back when they're back. Maybe this is a nice time to stretch one's legs?

Whoever came up with dubbing a Fosse routine to hip-hop? Genius.

And now, since the sun's out and I'm on vacation (woo!) I'm gonna take Brizzly's advice and step awaaaaay from the computer for the rest of the day. Well, afternoon. Well, couple of hours.

Pomplamoose

Enough of the heavy medical-type stuff for now.

A few weeks ago, this YouTube video was all over the internet. It got me interested in the two musicians who put it together, and I've gone back to their site a few times to see what else they're doing.

They call themselves Pomplamoose. In their recordings, they play or sing all the parts, then mix everything together. It looks like their studio is somewhere in their house (in San Francisco). They've done a bunch of covers (like the one of Beyonce's song cited above), but they write and record their own songs as well.

Of the covers, this one's my favorite so far:



And of their own music, this is my favorite:



Hurray for fun, creative people!

Time for a change

Editorial note: Wrote this 2 weeks ago. Forgot to hit "publish"

So, it's October. It's time for me to go get meds for my allergies.

Last time I went, my doctor did something that really bothered me. It started after she'd given me a sample of Nasonex to try along with prescriptions for the drug I needed for my bronchitis and the Allegra and the inhaler I normally get. Nasonex is a topical medication that you apply to your nose, it's supposed to suppress allergies. Worked wonderfully. My breathing was great.

Sleep, however, was another story. I was getting maybe 2 hours' sleep a night, if any. It took me a while to figure it out, and only then because I forgot to take the Nasonex one Friday morning. That night I slept like I'd been drugged. Did the same on Saturday night, too. Sunday morning I finally remembered to take the Nasonex, and ta-dah! Insomnia.

Not only that, but my heart would race every once in a while. Like it was trying to leap out of my chest. That's fun in the middle of a team meeting, huh?

When I went back to my doctor for a follow-up a couple weeks later, I told her about the side-effect, and she waved it off.

"That's not the Nasonex. That's the Allegra."

Really? The Allegra I've been taking for ten years with no problem?

And then at the end of the appointment, she tells me she's prescribing the Nasonex, along with a year-long prescription for a 24-hour version of Allegra.

"I just told you I'm not taking that Nasonex." I said. She looked up, surprised. Like the furniture had just spoken. I described what happened again, and told her the bit about forgetting to take it for a couple of days and finally getting some sleep.

"That's weird," is all she had to say. And wrote the Nasonex scrip anyway, on the same piece of paper as the Allegra-24. I left her office feeling angry and disrespected. Granted, I'm no doctor, but I'm in this body 24/7, and I'm not a total moron. I think I might have some insight into what's going on with me.

Luckily the pharmacy I went to only fills what you ask them to. I never filled the Nasonex. And I vowed that I was never ever going back to that woman under any circumstances.

I ran out of refills on my prescriptions last November. I'd managed to stockpile a little by buying a refill every month whether I needed it or not, so I didn't have to go back to her. The medication in the last bottle expired last month. Time to find a new doctor.

A coworker recommended someone her Dad had seen for a physical. I think his own doctor was on vacation or something and this other fellow was part of the same group, filling in where necessary. She said he listened to her Dad, didn't run a million tests, and just seemed on the whole more laid-back and personable. So I did a little research.

Turns out he's a D.O., not an M.D. I've never been to an osteopath before. Wasn't even sure what an osteopath does, so I looked it up. Here's what Wikipedia said:

Osteopathy is an approach to healthcare that emphasizes the role of the musculoskeletal system in health and disease. It is practised in the United Kingdom, the rest of the European Union, Israel, Canada, New Zealand and Australia. Osteopathy is not to be confused with the historically related but now distinct field, osteopathic medicine in the United States.

All right. I clicked on the link to osteopathic medicine in the United States:

Osteopathic medicine is a branch of the medical profession in the United States, with some recognition outside the US (47 countries), including most Canadian provinces. Physicians or surgeons who graduate from osteopathic medical schools are sometimes known as osteopathic physicians and hold a professional doctorate, the Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine (DO), in contrast to the more familiar degree, the Doctor of Medicine, or MD. The existence of two degrees leading to equivalent status as a licensed physicians is not widely known.

And later on:

Osteopathic medicine is considered by some in the United States to be both a profession and a social movement, especially for its historically greater emphasis on primary care and holistic health. However, any distinction between the MD and the DO professions has eroded steadily; diminishing numbers of DO graduates enter primary care fields, fewer use OMM, holistic patient care models are increasingly taught at MD schools, and increasing numbers of DO graduates choose to train in non-osteopathic residency programs.

Clear as mud. My aunt has been going to a D.O. instead of an M.D. for years and was happy with the woman. On the strength of that, and figuring a new point of view was probably a good thing, I called and got added to his patient list. I told the receptionist (nurse?) that I was switching doctors. She asked who I was switching from, and when I told her, she said,

"She's on the same call list as we are. That means if you're ever in the hospital, she might be the physician on call for you."

"That's okay. I doubt she'd recognize me anyway."

When I told my mom I was seeing a D.O. I got an interesting reaction. All she said was, "Oh really?" My mom's moved away from a lot of traditional medicine recently. She goes to a reflexologist on a regular basis, and I believe it does her a lot of good. She was so much healthier after a few months of treatment with this person that my Dad started going too. At one point he had a colon full of polyps, and this woman worked up an intensive treatment called a "liver cleanse" that he went through for a summer and fall. It got rid of most of them by the time his next colonoscopy came round. Impressive.

Mind you, they still use traditional medicine for things like his heart. Oh, heck yeah. Don't want to fool around with the heart. I'm with them on that one.

But I digress.

Boy am I glad I did this. He came in and sat down next to me at a table (not across from me. Side-by-side (friendly) as opposed to face-to-face (confrontational). I do the same thing when I do reference work. People accept your help more readily if you don't come barging at them from straight-ahead), and started to chat with me. Asked all sorts of questions: where I'm from, how long I've been here, what was my major in college, what do I do now, where do I live...at first I thought he was trying to put me at ease, but then I noticed he was writing down all my answers. I guess that's the "holism" thing kicking in, huh?

By the time we got to discussing what brought me here, I was a whole lot more relaxed than I'd ever been with the M.D. I told him about my allergies, and though I hedged a little bit about why I left the other doctor (I don't know why), eventually I decided to tell him that I lost confidence in my previous physician, and why. He didn't argue or agree, just nodded and kept listening while he looked up my nose and listened to my chest (at some point in the conversation I'd moved onto the exam table, but then off it and back to a chair after he'd listened to me breathe). Then he asked me to describe the worst asthma I'd ever had. I told him about this instance from a couple years ago.

He prescribed most of the same things I had been taking (not the Nasonex, thank goodness), and went to get me a sample of some asthma medication he wants me to take during October, or any time I think I'll be around something that will make things flare up (like up at my parents' cabin with the wood/coal stove). It's an inhaler with a very little bit of a steroid in it.

He came back with two boxes.

"I was going to give you this one," he holds out a box with a pink stripe across the top, "but then I remembered that they just came out with child's version that has a much lower dosage." He holds out the box in his other hand. It has a gray stripe across the top. "I was thinking that if the little bit of steroid that was in the Nasonex gave you trouble, maybe we should start you with the child's dosage and see if that works. If it doesn't, then we'll move you up to the adult's."

And the clouds parted, and the light shone down, and the angels sang. He listened to me! He heard and believed me! Hallefrickinlujah!

"It's one dose daily, and I think maybe you should take it before you go to bed, since night time is when it hits you worst."

That's true. When did I tell him that? Oh. OH! The dream. Dang, he listens with both ears!

Angels just sang another chord.

"Give me a call in a few days, tell me which one works for you and which pharmacy to call with the prescription."

And that's what I did. I'm on the child's. Didn't even open the adult's. He said to keep the sample, maybe I'll need it when I visit my parents.

It was so nice to leave a medical appointment feeling like I'd been heard.

I heart my new doctor.

Standing down now

Mom called around six o'clock. I was so proud of myself for not calling her the second I got home, and then again at fifteen minute intervals until I finally reach her, only to harangue her for not calling me the second she knew something. I let my sister do that this time.

Just kidding. I don't know that Ditter did that. Though Mom told me she got an earful when she called my sister, 'cause Mom had promised to call when the whole thing was over with.

She forgot. And she admitted now that she was probably more worried than she let on. She only really noticed the stress once it was gone. That makes me feel a little better for some odd reason, cause she was kinda laughing at me a little about how fussed I was about this.

Anyway, I digress. Dad's good. Actually, he's better than good. He has a normal sinus rhythm now. The doctor says he can expect to feel more energy, and things will only improve once he gets fitted for a C-PAP machine.

Yep. Sleep apnea. Undiagnosed for at least 25 years. Probably what's been enlarging the heart and causing the blood pressure problems. Not to mention the dark circles under my mother's eyes from having to sleep next to all the snoring and tossing and turning all this time.

When she called, Dad was sitting on the sofa, watching TV and restringing a lamp.

Oh, and the snow I was worried about, the power outages I thought they would cause? My parents got flurries. We got all the snow. This morning there were 10,000 customers without power, including me. The power company's managed to get it down to 4500 customers without electricity now. They estimate they'll have everything restored by 6 pm tomorrow.

Whew. I'm feeling a bit worn out. Full day, what with worrying about Dad, getting to work late (decided not to try to comb my hair by candlelight. One hair-flip in the wrong direction and foosh! Hair-fire. There's a headline I never want to be in), and then leaving work early anyway because I was concerned about my old, old kitty alone in an unheated house. Got home, found out the power had been on for hours already, and set about making myself not call my mother.

I'm going to bed.

But hey, guess what! I'm on vacation! For a whole week! Whee!

Ready, Set, Worry!

My father's getting his heart reset tomorrow. The cardiologist likened it to turning off a computer, waiting a moment, and then giving it a cold reboot. It's supposed to clear up the irregular heartbeat problems Dad's having.

Wait.

What?

What?

I asked my Dad this past Sunday what exactly is supposed to happen, and here's what he told me:

He's going to be knocked out, put on a respirator, and then the cardiologist and his team will stop my father's heart, wait a moment or two, and then shock it back into starting again.

That? Scares the shit outta me.

It must, because I don't think I've ever sworn on this blog before.

It took a little time to absorb what he was saying and I missed an important detail. My mind was kinda occupied with the stopping Daddy's heart aaaaaahhhhhh part of the conversation, so I couldn't recall the bit where he told me when this was going to happen.

I called my Mom Tuesday about that. I wanted to know exactly when to worry.

She said the 16th, a little before 9 a.m. he'd be prepped and ready to go.

That's tomorrow.

And today? It's started to snow, and it's supposed to continue until sometime Saturday morning. It's a wet, heavy snow, sure to hang on the leaves that haven't detached themselves from their trees yet, which can cause aforementioned trees to come crashing to the ground, dragging power lines in their wakes.

Power they'll be using to stop and then start my Daddy's heart, and to keep him breathing throughout. This didn't occur to me until a few minutes ago. Thanks for that, brain. 'Cause I wasn't worried enough.

I sure hope the hospital has back-up generators.

Fun theory

This just tickled me

There's a real post coming, I swear. Really. Not today, though. We're in the middle of a two-day open house here in the library. I've spent the morning working at various places for it, and there will be more to do tomorrow. The brain, she is fried.

OwowfreakingOW part 2, or, I'll give you something to cry about

You know those tissues they make that have lotion in 'em for your poor ravaged nose? I bought some of those for my desk at work to keep myself from doing stupid things like a) blowing my nose on toilet tissue or paper towels; and b) applying hand cream to my face because a solid day of paper towels and toilet tissue on the face is rough, man.

Guess what, though? When you read a tweet that friends had to take their dog for an emergency visit to the vet's and the poor puppy never made it home again, and it gets you all teary-eyed? Don't wipe your eyes with the lotion tissues. Sting! Dang that hurts! My eyes are watering more, and I'm fighting the urge to use another tissue to wipe 'em.

Well, at least I'm not crying over the dog anymore.

I wonder if I can catalog blind?

Playing with Blip

A couple weeks ago my sister got me hooked on a site called Blip that pretty much turns you into a little DJ. I can make my own play list from a huge song library (provided I can find the song I want. Their search engine can be a little imprecise), and anyone can listen to it that wants to. I can listen to other people's lists, merge them with mine on my own "personal radar," listen to what everyone's putting on their own lists on the public feed, or just listen to my own.

I just yesterday found another Jonathan Coulton song I like, and I submit it here for your enjoyment:

Jonathan Coulton - Ikea

Shared via AddThis

OwowfreakingOW

Hey, guess what! When you've been sneezing all morning and blowing your nose on paper products that weren't originally intended for noses and it makes that particular facial area all red and sore? Do not, I repeat do not try to cool and soothe the area with hand cream. Particularly black raspberry vanilla body cream from Bath & Bodyworks. You'll feel like you just poured kerosene on your face and lit a match.

Well, at least the runny nose can put the fire out around it, what-what?

Why yes, I did just watch The Madness of King George recently! How did you know?

Glorious mess

Last week I finally admitted that my CSA vegetables age faster than I can use them, and that I need to start freezing things. A week ago Friday I made stuffed peppers with the 4 bell peppers they gave me the week before, and did my best to clear out the fridge in preparation for this week's haul.

Last night I blanched and froze three heads of broccoli...and set off the smoke detector in the process 'cause I forgot to turn on the hood fan over the range. Scared the bejeezus out of the cat. And probably my neighbors.

Today (after turning on the hood fan and pointing the living room's big standing fan out into the kitchen) I blanched 1/2 a head of cauliflower (that all that was in the crate. Still pretty big, though, even for a half), a bag of string beans (green, wax, and purple--though the purple ones turned green when they hit the water. Boooo.), and four ears of corn. Everything but the corn went into the freezer. The corn, along with some tomatoes, onions, a clove of garlic, and some bacon became this:



My Grandma Ruth used to make it, and she called it Mexicorn. I think it was a fancy word for summer-leftovers-that-need-to-be-used-up. Everything in this picture (except the bacon, of course) came from my CSA share. One of the tomatoes I used was yellow and green striped, green on the inside.

It doesn't look all that appetizing, but it tastes wonderful. Hence, this post's title.

Here's how it's made, if you'd like to try it:

Ingredients:
Bacon (I used 4 pieces, one for each cob of corn.)
Corn, cooked, cut off the cob (preferably. I've done it with frozen. It's not the same)
Onion (I used 2 tiny red ones and small white one)
1 clove of garlic (that's my own little addition. I don't think Grandma cooked with garlic)
Tomatoes, diced, preferably fresh.
Salt to taste
Ground pepper to taste

1. In a sauté pan, fry bacon until it's crispy. Remove from pan and drain on paper towels.
2. Fry the onion and garlic with the bacon fat.
3. Add corn, stir.
4. Add tomatoes, stir.
5. Crumble bacon, add to pan. Stir.
6. Add salt and pepper, stir.
7. Remove from heat when mixture is throughly combined and heated through. Serve.
8. Try not to eat the whole thing in one sitting.

I have no idea what the Weight Watcher's points are for this, and I. Don't. Care! It's mostly vegetables anyway. Okay, so they're covered in fat and mixed with bacon, but it's not like I eat this everyday. I've been waiting for the corn to start coming so that I could make it. I've had a little bit, and now I'm gonna quick toss the rest in the freezer so I don't eat any more today.

Later this evening I'm going to try a fennel bulb and potato au gratin recipe that the CSA put in the bulletin this past week. Wish me luck! The fennel smells great, let's hope it tastes as good and freezes well.

I'm also going to cut up the rest of the tomatoes, the cucumbers, some onion, and the radishes and make some sort of marinated salad with them. I'll probably just throw Italian dressing on it and refrigerate it.

On tomorrow's agenda -- Cream of carrot soup. With leeks and ginger and a yam, too. I made this earlier this year, never took a picture, didn't think to freeze it in time and the soup went bad. Gonna make it again now that I know what I'm doing.

And pretty soon I'm going to make a recipe Pioneer Woman talked about over on her cooking blog for a pineapple-zucchini cake with cream cheese frosting. I'm going to bring that in to work. One of my co-workers is going on maternity leave very soon, and I feel like making a little fuss. We already threw her a shower, but I just want to do this. I also want to try the recipe, get rid of my zucchini , and have a piece of cake without having the rest of it leftover later. I'd say that's four birds, one stone.

Off to got pack up the mexicorn before I eat more of it!

Today's fun thing-Code Monkey

I ran across a YouTube video a while back (pointed there by The Bloggess) of someone dancing in their jammies to the tune "Code Monkey" by Jonathan Coulton. I have fallen in love with that song. It's on my iPod now, and since I'm listening to it at work as I type (What? I'm on my afternoon break!) this I thought I might as well share it. It's a great Friday-afternoon-get-me-outta-here song.

He's released it under Creative Commons, which I guess means people are free to do with it what they will,and a bunch of people have put videos together for it. Here's one of my favorites:



And here's the one that got me interested in the song in the first place:

Still here

It was pointed out to me a few minutes ago that I haven't posted anything in a while. Here's what's been doing:

I went to my parents' house two weekends ago. I was planning on going anyway, to celebrate my birthday and their anniversary. The visit took on more urgency a few days before I was planning to go, as my father spent their anniversary and the next 2 days in the hospital.

Doctors gave it some Latin name I don't remember but in layman's terms he has an irregular heartbeat. He's on medication for it now. He was so severely dizzy the day he went into the hospital that he couldn't even stand. And the blood pressure medicine he was on was making things worse instead of better. So off they went to the emergency room.

My sister and brother-in-law swung by Friday to pick us up -- since I was going for more than a there-and-back-the-next-day visit, the cat had to come with me. Needs her meds for her kidney thing daily. We got to Mom and Dad's place around 11:30. Dad was home by that point. Looked fine--a little tired maybe, but glad to be home.

Apparently people live with this condition for a long time. Burt, an 80+ man who works with my Mom and Dad, has had an irregular heartbeat for 30 years. It doesn't seem to have slowed him down any.

So anyway, after assuring ourselves that Dad was okay now, we relaxed and enjoyed the weekend. Well, my brother-in-law not so much. He had what later turned out to be poison oak all over him. Even in his eye (fun!). We left earlier than planned on Sunday so he could get to a doctor or a hospital back at home to see what was up.

But Saturday was a nice relaxing day. Mom drove us out to a field that was full of wildflowers, and we took pictures. Here's one of my favorites:



And then we went to town to a shop called Olga's where we all bought some fancy yarn. I know, I don't need any more yarn! But I have some anyway, along with plans for its use.

Since then, I've been working, sleeping, weeding, and trying to keep up with my CSA shares. I just got more stuff yesterday:

Branching out

Y'know, being part of this CSA thing is really making me branch out, food-wise. Two weeks ago there was a great big bag of basil in my crate. The house smelled amazing. Ooof. I hadn't much of an idea what to do with it, so I looked up a recipe for pesto online, and then made some. Pictures will follow as soon as I use it. It's in the freezer right now.

This week was the best crate yet.



Buried amongst all that vegetable goodness there's another wee bag of basil. Not enough to make pesto with (though this week's CSA bulletin includes a recipe for pesto using the kale and some walnuts. Hmm. I might try that), but there was just enough to make this:



Almost too pretty to eat. I managed, though.

I thought that was called "messing with someone"

Today's word at A Word a Day is menticide. It's defined thus:

noun: The systematic undermining of a person's beliefs, attitudes, and values.

Huh. I didn't know there was a word for that.

Time flies when you're doin' nothin'

I've been on vacation from July 3 to July 13. Got back to work this Monday and have been digging out from under a pile of work ever since.

Vacation was...um. I don't remember. It's kind of blurry except for the local arts festival, which was from Wednesday the 8th (kid's day) through Sunday the 12th. My sister showed up Wednesday afternoon, we went to that yarn shop the next town over, spent way too much, came home, knitted, hung out. Went to the festival Thursday, took in about 1/2 of it before the crowds got to us (when it takes great force of will to keep yourself from smacking people who stop directly in front of you for no reason or who suddenly swerve into your path, it's time to go home). Friday we hung out. That evening my Mom showed up (it was her birthday). Saturday: combo of Wednesday and Thursday. Bought Mom her birthday present at the festival. Sunday: Everyone went home, I vegged out on sofa with cat waiting for the "I made it home" phone calls to come in.

Other than that, there has been not too very much going on. Still getting vegetables from the CSA every other week. Still photographing them, though I haven't posted the pictures since the first week. Forgot. Still trying to eat them before they go bad--getting better at that.

And that's about it from over here. How are you?

So it turns out I like jazz. And blues.

Whodathunkit?

Glad I went. She was fun and funny and soulful and has an incredible voice. I bought one of her CD's from a table in the lobby one my way out, and also bought on from the act that went on ahead of her, Beaucoup Blue -- a father-and-son blues duo out of Philadelphia. Blues and jazz, two things I've never really sought out, and I liked 'em both.

Only one drawback of the evening--two people right behind me who wouldn't stop talking. Constant chatter. All. Night. Long. Argh! I wish I'd had the nerve to do what a friend of mine did after some woman sat next to him and chatted to her companion the whole way through a showing of Moulin Rouge. After the lights came up, he turned to her and said:

"You owe me four dollars."

"What?!?"

"Your yapping made me miss about half that movie. Ticket cost me $8. You owe me $4."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Well, I know what you were talking about." And then he proceeded to list all the topics she and her friend had discussed over the past two hours. She stood there, shocked and affronted.

"Hey, lady, in future? If you want to talk, go to a restaurant. If you come to see a movie? Shut up."

He's my hero.

Outside my comfort zone

Melody Gardot's coming to town. A while back, someone pointed tonight's concert out via Twitter, asked if anyone wanted to go wither her, and sent a YouTube link. After a little exploring, I decided liked what I heard and that I would go. The person who mentioned the concert isn't going. At least I don't think she is. Never heard from her again about the topic, even after I tried contacting her directly. Maybe I misunderstood.

I've been to plays by myself, but I usually attend concerts with other people. Don't know why that is, but I'd rather listen to music with someone I know. Well, tonight, I'm going by myself. To listen to jazz, which is a genre I've never really paid much attention to before.

Should be interesting.

For G

I do have an actual written post coming, if I ever finish the &@%! thing. But in the mean time, I'm posting this with G (of Postcards to Myself) in mind, 'cause he once mentioned that he liked ukuleles:



On YouTube, the caption next to the video says:

Created on June 21, 2009. London Uke Festival - For more info check londonukefestival.com We smashed the record with 851 peforming on day!

Independent confirmation...

...also known as a sop to my vanity:

I was out and about yesterday afternoon, got onto a bus, and a woman I haven't seen in months said to me,

"You've lost weight!"

So there we are. Time to find the scale and see how much. Just for curiosity's sake.

Small victories

I bought a whole bunch of new clothes from the local branch of Lane Bryant back in April. They were having a huge everything-must-go sale prior to closing the branch for good, as apparently there aren't enough fat girls to clothe in this town (yeah, right). I scored $400 worth of clothes for $44. Go me! Virtual high five!

Then a few weeks later I gave myself a stern talking to and started to take Weight Watchers more seriously. I know, I know. New clothes, then lose weight? Isn't that supposed to go the other way 'round? Well, as my brother-in-law would say, "That's how I roll."

I still haven't weighed myself, though I am following program otherwise. I'm trying to teach myself that I need to focus on how I feel and not rely on some number to tell me whether I'm doing well.

It's working. My new clothes have been getting very baggy. Yesterday I went to put on a pair of the jeans I bought in April, and just as experiment I tried to get them on without undoing the button at the top. They slipped right on! Hurray! Oh, crap. That meant I needed to find a different pair of pants, 'cause if they slip on that easily, they'll slide down that easily as well.

I found another, smaller pair of jeans I haven't worn for a while. They fit! Kind of. Little tight across the thigh, but I didn't snap myself in half when I sat down in 'em, so those jeans have been rotated back into the wardrobe.

I have a long way to go. I don't even know how far. I suppose sooner or later I need to find the scale and get on it, if only to adjust my Weight Watchers' plan. For anyone not familiar with the program, as you lose weight, you lose "points" -- every food is assigned a point value, and you get a certain amount of points to use in a day, with 35 extra to spread around through the week. As you get smaller, so does your points budget.

I need to find that scale. I think it's in one of the boxes I labeled "Odds & Ends." But my more immediate need is to get myself to a store and buy a belt. I do not want to accidentally moon someone in the library. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

I retweeted this, but I don't think that's enough

I got a tweet from Neil Gaiman (well, not to me, exactly. I follow him). He sent out the following link, and I thought it was worth putting up on the blog:



I wish I was nearer to New York City. Apparently he's performing there this weekend.

I also like his alternate title for this clip: Squandering an Expensive Music School Education on Ridiculous Youtube Videos.

Big Pixar fan over here

Was talking with some folks at work today about Up, which I'd like to see sometime soon, and how I've always liked Pixar even before I knew who they were. When Toy Story came out, it reminded me of an animated short I saw when I was in college, as part of a film of the winners of some international animation tourney (back when they used to bring things like that to campus and show 'em to us). It was called "Tin Toy." Then I saw a special on the making of Toy Story and learned that these were the same people who did "Tin Toy." I just found it on YouTube:



Another one I liked (turned out to be another one of theirs) was in a similar vein, about a snowman living in a snowglobe (a souvenir from Alaska, I think) who falls in love with another souvenir (from Miami) on the shelf. Found that one too. It's called "Knick Knack:"



Yep. Watching these has reinforced my desire to go see Up.

Lolly's paw

To anyone who's been wondering: there will be no need to biopsy the cat's paw. That thing with the definite edges? Scab. Fell off a few days after I posted about it. The next time the cat allowed me to look at her foot, it looked great. I looked yesterday, and couldn't tell there'd been a wound at all. Mind you, I was was holding the cat in mid-air, dangling her feet in front of me, so I only got a few glimpses. But everything looks good!

Yay! Crisis averted.

Veggies!

I got the first share from the Community Supported Agriculture thing I joined. According to the list, I got lettuce, spinach, radishes, mustard greens, and Asian greens.

Now. What do I do with 'em?

Advanced cat yodelling

Oreo, 1989-2009

This was Delilah's daddy.

My father called Friday evening to tell me Oreo had to be taken to the vet's. He'd stopped eating recently, and now he wouldn't even drink water. Mom saw a little bit of blood in his mouth. The vet confirmed what we already knew: tumor. He had a small one on his face that I've been editing out of pictures for years, including the picture above. Turns out there was another one in his mouth, under his tongue. He was put to sleep Friday afternoon.

Sammy (Samson, Delilah's litter mate) died last October. He had a tumor as well, only his was on his foot. Here's Sammy:



Poor sweet babies.

I'd be very happy if the booboo on Delilah's foot would go away now, please. It's round, and it has very definite edges. It probably a bite mark (pleaseohplease it's a bite mark!), but if it doesn't go away by the time we're through with the antibiotics I'm going to have to take her back to the vet and get it biopsied. Gulp.

Anti-theft

You know, it's the little things that drive you crazy. Stupid stuff like food noises you can't get away from (dealt with, thanks to my Mom's Christmas gift of headphones) or people ignoring your emails requesting more info on the next step of a project only to dump a ton and a half of work on you 2 weeks after you've given up on them and decided to work on something else. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!)

This morning it's disappearing book carts. Friday afternoon we had two empty ones. This morning? Zero. This isn't the first time it's happened. I've lost count of how many times they go missing, actually. Whoever does it steals 'em before any of us get here, or after we leave. It's irritating.

One of my team mates and I found 'em, empty, in other parts of the room and wheeled them back home. I've made big yellow labels for them with our team's name and "DO NOT REMOVE!" in bold at the bottom. Stuck the labels all over the carts. If this doesn't work I'm gonna buy some chains and padlocks, and chain all the carts together. Ha! Try moving that, cart-thief.

Or better still, go find your own.

Quick update on the cat's paw

We went to the vet yesterday afternoon. He took a culture (a lot of white cells and some debris--probably from the litterbox), took her temperature (normal), watched her walk (the limp was a bit more pronounced by the time we got there), and prescribed an antibiotic. Half a pill once a day for two weeks. He said the limp should go away pretty fast. If this doesn't work our next option is biopsy (taking into account Samson and Oreo's medical history). Gulp.

She spent most of yesterday afternoon snuggled up with me on the couch, purring and sleeping. So I'm forgiven for messing with her foot and than dragging her back to the place where she has to suffer all sorts of indignities from That Man in the White Coat.

I gave her the first dose last night, and already she's walking better. Huzzah!

Please send good thoughts this way

I noticed last night that the cat seemed to be favoring her right front paw. A very, very, slight limp, so slight in fact that I thought I was imagining it. When I finally got her to let me see the paw, it turns out there an area that's swollen and slightly pink. It looks like she's been chewing on it. It's the same paw the vet used last week to take her blood pressure, and he shaved it a little before he did that. I'm thinking maybe the hair growing in was making her itch, so she started chewing.

At least, that's what I hope it is. Last October her litter mate Samson was put down because of a huge tumor on one of his feet. Oreo, Delilah and Sammy's daddy, has a small tumor on his face (has for a while. Every time I take a picture of him, I edit it out with the "spot-healing" brush in Adobe), and I'm pretty sure he's on his way out. He drools constantly, has stopped grooming, and spends a lot of time yowling and looking a little confused. My mom's sure if she takes him to the vet he'll get put down, and she doesn't want to do that. She says he doesn't look like he's in pain.

So anyway, there's a family history of growths. This thing on Delilah's paw doesn't look like the tumors I've seen on Sam and Oreo, but I'm worrried. It's probably a chewed area that got infected. I figure with this whatever-it-is going on with her kidneys, her immune system might not be optimal and I don't want some infection raging through her system.

The vet's office opens in 20 minutes. I hope I can get an appointment. And I hope it's nothing serious. I tend to catastrophize.

If you could send some good thoughts towards Central Pennsylvania, I'd really appreciate it.

Another little anniversary

Two years ago today I officially started working for the department I'm in now. Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of the move--when the tech support people took my equipment from my old cubicle and put it in my new one, and I had to follow it down 'cause how else would I do my work? It took every ounce of self-control I had not to skip merrily down the hall behind the tech folks, singing out "See ya! Bub-bye now!" as I left.

Last year I really wanted to send the Dean flowers as a thank-you for getting me the heck outta there. I thought news of that would get around, though, and I didn't want to make things difficult for myself with the people I left. But oh! what a nice bouquet I made in my head.

Hey look! Another meme!

I got this one from Antonia, over at Whooppee The original instructions on this were to find song names from your favorite band and make them the answers to the questions. Antonia decided to she'd rather answer the questions head-on, and I agree. It was a consider-yourself-tagged-if-you-want sort of thing, so I tagged me. Here we go:

1. Are you a male or female: Female, but I do possess some version of the "I don't need to ask directions, I'm not lost" gene. Most of the time I can control it, the rest of the time I just pretend I'm exploring.

2. Describe yourself: Large. Bookish. Whimsical. Covered in cat hair. Boisterous. Sarcastic. Like to dance, now that I know how. Generous. Shy. Friendly. Goofy, with a slight smattering of silly. Musical. Easy to amuse. Eager to please. Generally tolerant except for certain noises like slurps or constant sniffling.

3. How do you feel about yourself: I'm comfortable by myself, I amuse myself. I feel a lot more confident than I did a few years ago.

4. Describe your parents: My mom is a little shorter than me, red-headed, articulate, fun and funny. She has an amazing soprano voice. She could have been an opera singer. My dad is tall, thin, quiet, with a very dry wit. He's from Iowa. Keeps most of his feelings to himself. They're an odd pairing, but they've been married for 42 years, so I guess that theory about opposites attracting has some validity. I not only love them, I like them.

5. Describe your ex boyfriend/girlfriends: The first one was dark-haired and blue-eyed, with a lovely singing voice (tenor) and an ego the size of a small planet. He's down south somewhere, has been married and divorced twice. A friend told me recently that he'd like to get in touch with me again, "just as pen pals" or something. Not just no, but hell no.

The second one was my height exactly, had light brown hair and hazel eyes, a lovely singing voice (see a pattern developing? This one was a bass) and a wounded soul. For 3 and 1/2 years he sucked the life out of me, dragged me down to his level of sorrow (misery loves company and all that). Then he graduated, told me he wasn't in love with me, and disappeared. It didn't take long for me to see how much happier I was after he left, and that I didn't miss him. I do miss the 3 & 1/2 years, though.

The third one was a very brief relationship that ended suddenly when an emotional hand-grenade got tossed into my private life. He got hit with shrapnel. I don't think I ever explained the situation, and he's never asked. He's married now, lives in this town, is a bus driver. I see him once in a while, usually when he's driving my bus. Of the three, he's the only one who I wouldn't cross the street to avoid speaking to. And no, he can't sing. Couldn't carry a tune if it had handles on it.

6. Describe your current boy/girl situation: It took a long time for me to figure it out, but I'm really happiest on my own.

7. Describe your current location: In a computer lab on a college campus, in a chair that's too low for me, three terminals down from someone who really needs a tissue (see #2)

8. Describe where you want to be: At home, in PJs, sitting on the sofa with the cat in my lap and a book in my hand. In Lancaster County, visiting my sister. In San Francisco, wandering around staring at everything in an attitude that screams "tourist!" In Stratford, Ontario, watching a performance from their theater festival. Whale-watching. Beach-combing.

9. Your best friend(s) is/are: quick-witted, fast-talking, big-hearted, intelligent, talented (each in his or her own way), and fun to be around. They're also generally a long way off. Some are out of town, out of state, one is on another plane of existence altogether (buried in Kansas. I miss her, and some day when I am able, I'll write about her).

10. Your favourite colour is: anything but orange. I like to wear red, brown, black, pink. I like to look at blue, green, yellow, purple.

11. You know that: I didn't answer #9 very well, so I went back and added some more. Edits are in green.

12. If your life was a television show what would it be called: Running the Asylum

13. What is life to you: Whatever I'm doing at the moment.

14. What is the best advice you have to give: Don't take free advice.

Edited to add: Tag! You're it! But only if you want to play.

Easter

I went home for Easter. It was relaxing, pleasant, and quiet. TV stayed off most of the weekend. Ah. Nice.

I have some pictures. Wanna see?



That grass in the basket is real, and live. It's a Martha Stewart trick. I was going to link to it but I can't find the link. Basically you take a plastic bag, put potting soil in it, spread the seeds on it, and put it in the basket. Water it once in a while, and it'll keep growing.



The duck is a toy Mom got at a drug store. It comes as an egg. There are holes drilled top and bottom. You soak the egg for a while, and then after you take it out, the shell cracks and the little duck emerges. He's a very dense sponge. He was still wet at the bottom on Sunday afternoon. He's in there partly for cuteness and partly to water the grass.

After Easter the grass will get planted outside somewhere.



This grouse was sitting outside Saturday morning. Saw him through the bathroom window, grabbed the camera, and hoped for the best. I tried to get another shot of him from the porch, but as soon as he saw me he flew away. Oh, well.



And here's another shot of that basket with loot left by the Easter bunny. Mom didn't want to stain the grass, so most of the candy went into a separate basket. The bag in the back and the two flowered eggs are presents from me. The candy eggs are from a chocolatier here in town. The bag has roots for 10 strawberry plants in it.

And that's pretty much my weekend. I took vacation on Monday -- I'd originally planned to be upstate longer, but that's when I thought the cat was coming with me. M'colleague agreed to give the cat her meds (in wet cat food. Lilah likes her a lot now) over Easter weekend, but I thought asking her to do Monday as well would be an imposition. She said (my colleague, not my cat. I'm not that far gone yet!) that Lilah was very friendly, all purring and lovey-dovey, no trouble at all with eating her doctored food. Aha! My sneaky little plan worked.

The "puppies" who used to live upstairs

The following is a memory jog, courtesy of yesterday's post by Antonia.

Just after I graduated college, I lived in a two bedroom apartment with three other girls (one in her third year at school, the other two just like me -- recent graduates with crappy jobs). Our upstairs neighbors were four college boys. I don't think they had furniture, because they seemed to use every square inch of that floor. Sometimes they'd practice goosestepping in heavy work boots. Or maybe it was tap-dancing. Stamping out ants?

They also liked to hold impromptu wrestling matches in the middle of their living room. I used to imagine them as a litter of puppies all rolling around on the floor together. We often expected to see the whole lot of them come crashing through our ceiling during these little romps, and I am sure that if this happened the boys would've been completely unfazed. They probably would have looked up briefly, shrugged, and then gone back to their scuffle. Same match, different floor.

Their favorite game (when they weren't playing Pig Pile on the Living Room Floor, that is) was to toss a(n American) football back and forth from the back bedroom down the hall to the living room, then from living room out onto the adjoining deck -- all the while holding shouted conversations about sports, school, girls, and who had been the most drunk the previous evening. One of the guys in the living room constantly overshot (or maybe one of the ones on the deck was trying to catch while wearing greased oven mitts), so every few minutes someone would gallop downstairs, fling open the door, slam it shut, find the football, fling open the door again, slam it shut, and pound back up the steps.

I wonder where they are now. I wonder if they think back fondly on their college days, or if they spare a thought for the four young women who lived beneath them and whose collective fervent wish was that they all go straight to hell.

Oh, hey, look what I grew!

Results from my evaluation

I got the supervisor-written part of my evaluation this morning. I'll get the final one after the dean has signed off on it, but nothing that's already been written will change. Our supervisor figured we wanted to know where we stood as soon as possible, so she handed us "unofficial" versions this morning.

The word "exceptionally" was used a lot. I got complimented for my energy, flexibility, cheerfulness, willingness to take on more work, and for getting projects done in "record time."

Okay, so there are no raises this year (the budget for the state is a mess, and this university gets a chunk of our budget from the state), but I don't really care. Sometimes the praise is good enough all on its own.

Modeling my new backbone

I went down to pick up the next piece of a project I'm working on for my old boss. Waiting on the cart for me were way more items than what I agreed that I would take at one time (and I've emphasized that to them quite a few times already). They do this all the time. They're supposed to pull between 40 and 60 reels of microfilm (I've told them repeatedly to try aiming for 50), and for the third time in as many weeks they had over 60 waiting for me to take away. A couple of weeks ago is was 115. Today it was 88.

I used to just take the reels, reiterate that I wanted between 40 and 60, and think ugly thoughts at them as I dragged stuff back to my cubicle to work on it. Part of me wanted to do it again today, but I stifled that impulse. If I kept letting them get away with this, pretty soon there would be over 100 reels on that cart again. I should know that, having worked with them so long. They push. You offer one of something, they ask for two. Give 'em an inch, they think they're rulers.

Dammit, I set a limit for a reason. I do have other things to do.

I asked my old boss what she wanted me to take, the 63-reel long title (three over my limit, but that's okay because it's an entire title), or the 25-reel long title and the first 35 reels of the 63-reel long one. She looked surprised.

"Well we don't like splitting runs up if we can help it..."

"Okay, so the 63-reel one."

"Well, but we have a list we're going by and we don't want to confuse the students doing the pulling."

They're already confused, I thought. They can't even count to sixty.

I went to the folder with the list in it and flipped a few pages.

"Next title is 37 reels long. I'll take the 63 reels today, and then Thursday I'll take these 25 and that 37-reel title."

She agreed, but I don't think she was happy. I used to have "Welcome" written on my back in 15 languages. I think she expected me to roll over and play dead. I'd said something to my supervisor and the head of my department at my annual review a few weeks ago along the lines of needing to grow a spine where these people were concerned.

Looks like it's starting to happen.

Little anniversaries

Today is the 1st anniversary of the day I finally Had It Up to Here with my apartment manager and decided to get the bleep outta there. Ah, memories. Have I mentioned that the incompetent twit no longer works there?

Local veggies headed my way

So I just joined (or will have joined, once I get my check in the mail) a community supported agriculture project with a local farm. For $600 you get a crate of fresh vegetables once a week. For $375 you get a crate once every two weeks. If you sign up and pay the whole fee before April 1, you get a 10% discount.

A half-share (the 1-crate-biweekly option) is described as meeting the "produce needs of one vegetable-loving person or a family who consumes only a moderate amount of vegetables." I figured 1 crate every two weeks would be plenty. They give this huge list of the sorts of things the grow:

Here is a list of crops you can expect through different parts of the season:

Sample Early Season: Spring Greens, Lettuce, Spinach, Radishes, Scallions, Peas, Kohlrabi, Bok Choy, Asian Greens, Cilantro
Sample High Season: Cucumbers, Cauliflower, Carrots, Corn, Summer Squash, Heirloom Tomatoes, Cherry Tomatoes, Garlic, Swiss Chard, Sweet Peppers, Hot Peppers, Potatoes, Fennel Bulb, Beans, Melons, Kale, Eggplant, Basil, Dill and other Herbs.
Egg Corn, Eggplant, Garlic, Carrots, Arugula,
Sample Late Season: Beets, Carrots, Spinach, Potatoes, Onions, Celeriac, Broccoli, Rutabaga, Winter Squash, Leeks, Brussels Sprouts, Garlic, Various Herbs

Sounded intriguing (What's egg corn? What do I do with a fennel bulb? Is celeriac a relative of celery? I sure hope these things get packed with labels on 'em). Sounded healthy. Sounded like a challenge to eat more than just carrots, cucumbers, corn, lettuce, and tomatoes. So I bit the bullet, wrote out the check, and joined.

I have a feeling there's going to be a biweekly feature on the blog this May through November involving a photo of all the stuff in the crate. And probably a plea for recipes/suggestions/ideas about what to do with the contents. For example: Mom says chard is good cooked up with olive oil and garlic.

I figure that $335 or so is a lot to pay up front, but it'll be worth it. It's all local, organically grown produce. It'll make me eat healthier ('cause if I pay that much for it, I sure am gonna eat it). So it looks like I'm taking on cooking this summer as well. Need to learn more of that for Thanksgiving anyway.

And my little heart went pitty-pat...

Holy crap!

Mom just sent me this email:

How would you feel about Ditter and Stretch coming over for Easter dinner?

I stared at it for a few moments (whoo! Feel that adrenaline rush!) before replying:

Over where?

It sounded like there was gonna be some sort of Easter confab (editorial update: wrong word. Apparently that's a conversation. I meant: shindig, do, gathering, partay) at my place. The hell? Last I knew, Mom and Dad were coming to pick up Lolly and me on Good Friday and taking me back home with them. I remember asking if that wasn't a terribly long schlepp, and she replied that it was no worse than the drive to the bus stop to pick me up.

I am totally unprepared for company. I'm planning to host Thanksgiving, and it looked like this email was cutting my prep-for-company time from eight months to three weeks. Gaaaaah!

I followed it up with a second reply:

If you mean over here, this is how I would feel: stressed, panicked, unprepared, under furnished, and guilty if I said no.

I'm not ready for people. I don't have enough furniture for people to all sit on something without some folks getting a kitchen chair. I said I'd host Thanksgiving, and that's what I've been shooting for -- eight months from now. I've never hosted a dinner party, let alone a holiday function, and I'm freaking out right now just thinking about it.

Did you already talk to them about it?

Too antsy to wait for an email back, I called her.

Yep. She thought they were spending the weekend with me, gonna play in my garden, stuff like that.

No.

Nononononono.

I couldn't figure out how she got that idea, and told her so. She mentioned something about a phone conversation we had recently, where we mentioned getting pavers for the garden when they came down, and I said, "Yeah. And I remember thinking, we're gonna do all this on Good Friday?"

So. They're staying home and hosting Easter. I'm gonna do Thanksgiving--I've invited my sister, her hubby, and her in-laws. Don't know if they'll come. Gulp. Need more chairs if they do.

I should buy more chairs anyway.

C'mon tax refund, mama needs to go furniture shopping!

A reader's meme

I lifted this meme from Average Jane:

1. Which book has been on your shelves the longest? Jane Eyre, though not the same copy. I keep reading that story to shreds.

2. What is your current read, your last read and the book you’ll read next?
Current Read: Jane and the Ghosts of Netley, by Stephanie Barron
Last Read: The Archivist, by Martha Cooley
Next Book: Magical Thinking, by Augusten Burroughs -- unless something else catches my eye.

3. What book did everyone like and you hated?
I was significantly underwhelmed by The Bridges of Madison County. I didn't see it as romantic at all. I was impatient with him and irritated by her.

4. Which book do you keep telling yourself you’ll read, but you probably won’t?
Not so much that I'm telling myself I'll read it, but that I despair of ever finishing it: A Suitable Boy. I keep picking it up and putting it down. And it's so long between attempts, I usually have to start over. It's good, but it's l-o-o-o-o-o-n-g. Oy.

5. Which book are you saving for “retirement?”
Well, I have to learn French first, but one thing I'd really like to do is read Les Miserables in its original language. Dunno why, I'm sure there are plenty of good translations out there. I just want to read it in French.

6. Last page: read it first or wait till the end?
I wait 'til the end.

7. Acknowledgments: waste of ink and paper or interesting aside?
I like them if they explain who the people are being thanked. If it's just a list of names, I tend to move on.

8. Which book character would you switch places with?
Can't think of anyone.

9. Do you have a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (a person, a place, a time)?
No, not really. Now, ask me that about pieces I've embroidered, that's a different story. For example, the pillow top I was working on during the long drive back from my cousin J's wedding in Virginia. NASCAR radio was on, I was embroidering in the back seat (roads were well-paved, car had decent shocks, and it was a blunt needle. And my small-hand coordination's very good). I've never finished the piece, 'cause every time I look at it I hear nnnnnnnNNNNNYOWMMMMNNNNnnnnnn in my head.

10. Name a book you acquired in some interesting way.
My aunt gave me the whole "Little House" series by Laura Ingalls Wilder, in hardback, one book every year or so, until I had them all.

11. Have you ever given away a book for a special reason to a special person?
I've been doing for my aunt's grandchild what my aunt did for me. I think the next one I have to get her is The Long Winter. Need to check on that.

12. Which book has been with you to the most places?
Most of my childhood books are packed away somewhere. I haven't seen them since we moved out away from the Philly area when I was 17. I hope they're still in good condition. Somehow or other Northanger Abbey missed getting packed up with everything else. I got that

13. Any “required reading” you hated in high school that wasn’t so bad ten years later?
Nope. I still don't like The Red Badge of Courage, and I can't see "The Big Two-Hearted River" as anything but a fishing trip.

14. What is the strangest item you’ve ever found in a book?
Found a photo in one I bought at a used book sale--old black and white photo of a woman holding a baby. Nothing written on the back. I don't remember what I did with it. If Look at Me had been around at the time, I would have scanned and posted the photo there.

15. Used or brand new?
Either. Both. Gimme!

16. Stephen King: Literary genius or opiate of the masses?
Eh. He's all right. Some of his stuff is really good, other works not so much. I think he answered the question himself when he wrote books under the name "Richard Bachman," and they didn't sell until he leaked it that they were his.

17. Have you ever seen a movie you liked better than the book?
I have learned to treat the movie and the book as separate. Other wise I get irritated with what I see as liberties taken with the way the story is told once it's put on film.

18. Conversely, which book should NEVER have been introduced to celluloid?
The Woman in White.

19. Who is the person whose book advice you’ll always take?
My mom's taste and mine seem to coincide. Though my friend G's pointed some interesting books out for me, too. Another one on my list, either after Magical Thinking or before, depending on my mood when I get down with what I'm reading now, is one he recommended called When Languages Die.

Jumping the gun a wee bit

So I've been doing Weight Watchers online the past couple of weeks. I can't tell how much I've lost (if anything), 'cause I can't find my bathroom scale. All right, no, I haven't looked for it. I'm afraid. I'll weigh in when I see significant differences other ways. And even then I'll only do it because I'll need to know how many points I should be using in the WW plan (the smaller you get, the less points you have for food).

I was feeling smaller this morning, so I tried a pair of jeans I haven't worn in months. They fit! Huzzah! I decided to wear them to work.

To tell the truth, they're a little snug. Sitting isn't uncomfortable, but I hope I don't drop something today--I bent over to tie my shoes this morning and nearly knocked myself out from lack of air. I probably should have waited another week.

But still! I'm in 'em! Woo-hoo!

In other news: the research on Thanksgiving dinner has begun. We start with napkins. Can't decide between the fleur-de-lis and the diamond pocket napkin fold.

I'm a grown-up!

You'd think, wouldn't you, that buying a townhouse would make me feel like an adult. Or maybe turning forty? Nope. You know what did it? Using the 1040 long form for my taxes, complete with a filled-out schedule A and schedule B.

Except for the year I had jury duty (and couldn't find a space on any other form but the 1040 long form to declare the $14 bucks or so that they paid me to sit around before being dismissed with thanks), I've used the 1040EZ form. One side of one sheet, very little to do except report what I made, what my tax should have been, what they took, and what they owe me.

This year? What I make, what I paid in state and local taxes, what I paid in property taxes, how much interest I paid on the mortgage, how much I paid in private mortgage insurance premiums...subtract that from what I made, along with the usual exemption I get every year (my head is beginning to spin, how about yours?)...two hours of math and form-filling later, it turns out the IRS owes me close to $800! It used to be between $300-$400.

Holy crap.