Friday I went with my sister garage saleing? Saling? We went to a bunch of garage sales!
We had good luck. I found a lot of winter clothes for the grandbaby in excellent shape, and found some other great items as well: A Fiesta Ware pitcher for $4, a box of comic books for $10, a garden pitch fork (or maybe I’ll use it as part of a Halloween costume) for $3, a wrought iron plant hanger for $3, and some artwork for what else, $3. It was a really good day for garage sales.
That is until you’re trying to track them down. What is wrong with people? There were a huge number of signs with miles of text and no arrow! All a good, no great, sign needs to say is say “SALE” and have an arrow pointing the way. A big, well defined arrow, not an anorexic little thing that you have to be standing over to make out. You need a nice beefy one with a fat pointy end. How hard is this?
Also, if you’re going to use big poster board, cut it into quarters, the big pieces are too big and the corners end up flopping over and covering your miles of text, and any arrow you might have on there. Neon colors are a good idea you can see them from a long way off. Use BLACK markers, because who can read yellow? The key to a successful garage sale is to know your customer. We’re older, blinders and we don’t have the same quick responses we had when we were younger. We like big, bold, simple, and well placed signs with ARROWS!!!!!!!!!! We’re too blind to read the address, and we’ve lost too many brain cells to remember it for more than a block anyway.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Spam/junk mail and women
I have just preformed my after task of checking my junk mail. Today there were 26, which is about average. I’ve got to tell you, I always feel like I need to go take a shower after dealing with this little chore. Honestly, I really try not to read any more of the message title then is necessary to figure out if it is spam or something real. I mean really, does anyone ever open an email titled, “You big give great pleasure” or “Nude pic Angela Jolie pregnant”? It’s a sick world out there, and if you don’t believe that, just read the titles on your junk mail.
Let’s hope we aren’t being judged, as a society, by this. If so, I’m afraid the universe has a giant finger heading for the destruct button.
But really, who would open any of this spam? As a woman I can tell you without a doubt that I do not want to grow my penis by 3 inches, receive Viagra at an 80% discount without a prescription, or re-grow my hair. Have you noticed how there aren’t that many catchy spam titles out there for woman? I can think of a few that would get my attention, of course not enough for me to open them, but at least I’d feel I had been considered.
-- Free maid service for 1 year
-- Pampered spa retreat for your input
-- Free removal of unwanted hair
-- Shoes that look as good as they feel
-- New boob support without a bra
-- Remote volume control for people
-- Force field that keeps dirt out of your house
-- Star Trek replicators now available, they really work!
-- Hunky heterosexual men that don’t watch sports, drink beer, belch or fart, and are looking for older, full figured women
Of course as a woman, I know none of this exists, but wouldn’t it be nice!!
Let’s hope we aren’t being judged, as a society, by this. If so, I’m afraid the universe has a giant finger heading for the destruct button.
But really, who would open any of this spam? As a woman I can tell you without a doubt that I do not want to grow my penis by 3 inches, receive Viagra at an 80% discount without a prescription, or re-grow my hair. Have you noticed how there aren’t that many catchy spam titles out there for woman? I can think of a few that would get my attention, of course not enough for me to open them, but at least I’d feel I had been considered.
-- Free maid service for 1 year
-- Pampered spa retreat for your input
-- Free removal of unwanted hair
-- Shoes that look as good as they feel
-- New boob support without a bra
-- Remote volume control for people
-- Force field that keeps dirt out of your house
-- Star Trek replicators now available, they really work!
-- Hunky heterosexual men that don’t watch sports, drink beer, belch or fart, and are looking for older, full figured women
Of course as a woman, I know none of this exists, but wouldn’t it be nice!!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Determining sex
We had a baby shower today at work, and I was part of the organizing committee. As a part of my duties I picked up a few decorations. Boy, have times changed!! When I was having babies, back in the 80’s, it was extremely unusual to know the sex of the baby before it was born. This was first generation ultrasound so you could barely tell it was a baby when they took a peek. To find out the sex they had to have that thing that I can’t spell (not even well enough for Spell Check to get), the thing where they stick a needle through your belly button and extract fluid. This usually meant you were having some major league problems with your pregnancy to begin with. Not a fun time for anyone.
Your other option for determining the sex was the local witch doctor, or countless grandmas and aunts. Their methods involved all manner objects being suspended over your belly, from a sewing needle, to a pencil, or a lock of the father’s hair. The sex was pronounced depending on weather the object moved up and down or side to side, or rotated in a clockwise or counterclockwise manner. There was also the “What are you craving test”, salty items for boys and sweet items for girls. And, of course if you were carrying the baby high it was a boy, while girls you carried low. Or was it the other way around? There were a million ways to tell if your were having a boy or girl.
The most telling factor about all this homespun knowledge and wisdom is that when you went to buy shower decorations, they were all in unisex color schemes. You would have had to look really hard for pink or blue. In fact you would pretty much have had to make your own or special order them. Now days it’s the complete opposite, almost all the shower decorations are either pink, or blue, and unisex colors are a bit more hard to find. They’re still out there, but not in the same kind of variety.
I can’t imagine not wanting to know the sex. I hear people talk about not wanting to know, but 9 times out of 10 they end up asking. They always say the same thing, “I want to be surprised.” I figure you can have your surprise now or later, it’s not like you knew at the moment of conception what you were creating. Of course that day is probably not far off. I wonder how they will do it. Will there be some pill or gel you use that will block all the boy sperm so you get a girl, or all the girl sperm so you get a boy? It would kind of be like the club houses we built as a kid and put up the “No boys allowed!!” signs. Now there’s a packaging concept!
Your other option for determining the sex was the local witch doctor, or countless grandmas and aunts. Their methods involved all manner objects being suspended over your belly, from a sewing needle, to a pencil, or a lock of the father’s hair. The sex was pronounced depending on weather the object moved up and down or side to side, or rotated in a clockwise or counterclockwise manner. There was also the “What are you craving test”, salty items for boys and sweet items for girls. And, of course if you were carrying the baby high it was a boy, while girls you carried low. Or was it the other way around? There were a million ways to tell if your were having a boy or girl.
The most telling factor about all this homespun knowledge and wisdom is that when you went to buy shower decorations, they were all in unisex color schemes. You would have had to look really hard for pink or blue. In fact you would pretty much have had to make your own or special order them. Now days it’s the complete opposite, almost all the shower decorations are either pink, or blue, and unisex colors are a bit more hard to find. They’re still out there, but not in the same kind of variety.
I can’t imagine not wanting to know the sex. I hear people talk about not wanting to know, but 9 times out of 10 they end up asking. They always say the same thing, “I want to be surprised.” I figure you can have your surprise now or later, it’s not like you knew at the moment of conception what you were creating. Of course that day is probably not far off. I wonder how they will do it. Will there be some pill or gel you use that will block all the boy sperm so you get a girl, or all the girl sperm so you get a boy? It would kind of be like the club houses we built as a kid and put up the “No boys allowed!!” signs. Now there’s a packaging concept!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Bestest buds and bubbling flesh
How do you know if a friend is true? Yesterday I had a run in with a frying pan full of hot grease. I was running on a small amount of sleep and three weeks filled with a lot of work. I was trying to stay up until at least 9:00 so I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep. I was pretty much running on nerves alone.
I decided to make a fried egg sandwich for dinner. Just as I was getting ready to break the egg into the skillet, a giant bubble of grease popped and went all over my fingers. I’m screaming, but I have to put down the egg before I can dash to the sink and run cold water over my poor abused digits. I’ve been burned before, hell I ran the grill and fryers at Jack-in-the-Box in high school. I know from pain! On so many levels.
So last night I was sitting around, without an egg sandwich, with my scalding fingers in a bowl of ice water. Every time I took them out for longer than 10 seconds they would get to burning so bad I had to submerge them again. I was really stressed too, because I couldn’t miss work. The next day I have a public meeting I’m in charge of, and is the culmination of more than 2 years work. I have to be there! So what was I going to do?
I’ll tell you what I did, I called my bestest buds. Debbi showed up with gauze and burn ointment and then went to the drug store to talk to the pharmacist and bring home more burn cream and Tylenol 3 with codeine. She got the Tylenol from her house not the pharmacist. She even rounded me up a super supply of ice. She sat with me while I was being pitiful and made me laugh.
I managed to get some good sleep thanks to the Tylenol. Also the original burn cream, which was a natural product, seemed to give me the most relief. Who knew? It so seldom works out that way.
Even though my fingers are covered in bubbling flesh today, they are working well and there is little pain. Of course its really, really ugly, and I’m living in terror of knocking it against something.
So the moral of this story is that a bestest buddy will come to your aid, stay by your side, make you laugh, and even call you the next day to check on you. Not to mention give you something good to blog about.
Love you Debbi!!!!!!!!
I decided to make a fried egg sandwich for dinner. Just as I was getting ready to break the egg into the skillet, a giant bubble of grease popped and went all over my fingers. I’m screaming, but I have to put down the egg before I can dash to the sink and run cold water over my poor abused digits. I’ve been burned before, hell I ran the grill and fryers at Jack-in-the-Box in high school. I know from pain! On so many levels.
So last night I was sitting around, without an egg sandwich, with my scalding fingers in a bowl of ice water. Every time I took them out for longer than 10 seconds they would get to burning so bad I had to submerge them again. I was really stressed too, because I couldn’t miss work. The next day I have a public meeting I’m in charge of, and is the culmination of more than 2 years work. I have to be there! So what was I going to do?
I’ll tell you what I did, I called my bestest buds. Debbi showed up with gauze and burn ointment and then went to the drug store to talk to the pharmacist and bring home more burn cream and Tylenol 3 with codeine. She got the Tylenol from her house not the pharmacist. She even rounded me up a super supply of ice. She sat with me while I was being pitiful and made me laugh.
I managed to get some good sleep thanks to the Tylenol. Also the original burn cream, which was a natural product, seemed to give me the most relief. Who knew? It so seldom works out that way.
Even though my fingers are covered in bubbling flesh today, they are working well and there is little pain. Of course its really, really ugly, and I’m living in terror of knocking it against something.
So the moral of this story is that a bestest buddy will come to your aid, stay by your side, make you laugh, and even call you the next day to check on you. Not to mention give you something good to blog about.
Love you Debbi!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Pickle day
Yesterday was Pickle Day in my neighborhood. The first batch of pickles I made was July 18. I make polish dill pickles, with fresh dill, garlic and peppers. This first time I got about 8 quarts put up, and gave them all out to neighbors with instructions to wait a month before opening and to put them in the refrigerator the day before. Putting them in the frig makes them crispy. It cracked me up to hear that several neighbors had actually marked their calendars.
Years ago when my kids were very young, teenage girls used to love to baby sit for me. Not because my children were so well behaved. These girls wouldn’t let me pay them with money, they would only baby sit if I paid them in pickles. I make great pickles, what can I say?
Now, here’s the kickers…I don’t eat pickles. I’ve never cared for them. When I was an adolescent it was all the rage to go to the movies and buy one of those big dill pickles to eat while you watched the movie. I remember buying one and trying to eat it. Thinking I could convince myself that I really did like them. It was such a bummer because not only did I find out that I really, really didn’t like pickles, no matter how much I tried to, I was also out my snack money. Like I said bummer. I’m a popcorn girl!
Years ago when my kids were very young, teenage girls used to love to baby sit for me. Not because my children were so well behaved. These girls wouldn’t let me pay them with money, they would only baby sit if I paid them in pickles. I make great pickles, what can I say?
Now, here’s the kickers…I don’t eat pickles. I’ve never cared for them. When I was an adolescent it was all the rage to go to the movies and buy one of those big dill pickles to eat while you watched the movie. I remember buying one and trying to eat it. Thinking I could convince myself that I really did like them. It was such a bummer because not only did I find out that I really, really didn’t like pickles, no matter how much I tried to, I was also out my snack money. Like I said bummer. I’m a popcorn girl!
Monday, August 17, 2009
Old men, bah!!
Old men with nothing to do are the bane of my existence. These are the calls I most dread at work. This morning an old guy with little to occupy him called wanting to know about the project we are getting ready do on his street. In and of itself, this not such an unrealistic thing to want to know.
Of course he starts out asking about the schedule and then he wants to know exactly what we will be doing and exactly where, and then he wants to debate the virtues of dry wells verses the use of perf pipe. Let me tell you, he doesn’t know much, but I’m nice and don’t point that out.
He then wants to go off on costs and how the city is wasting money. How the ground there infiltrates just fine, how the old dry well is just fine, and how the last time anyone did work on his street they cut the phone line and they didn’t have phone service for a day and then they were on a party line for a week. He also has to tell me all about the developer who extended his street, and the other dry well on the other street and the neighbor who wants to buy his boat, and the other neighbor who can’t control his kids, and a partridges in a pear tree. Like I don’t have anything better or more pressing to do than take a drive through his random thoughts and opinions. He should get his own blog!
Of course he starts out asking about the schedule and then he wants to know exactly what we will be doing and exactly where, and then he wants to debate the virtues of dry wells verses the use of perf pipe. Let me tell you, he doesn’t know much, but I’m nice and don’t point that out.
He then wants to go off on costs and how the city is wasting money. How the ground there infiltrates just fine, how the old dry well is just fine, and how the last time anyone did work on his street they cut the phone line and they didn’t have phone service for a day and then they were on a party line for a week. He also has to tell me all about the developer who extended his street, and the other dry well on the other street and the neighbor who wants to buy his boat, and the other neighbor who can’t control his kids, and a partridges in a pear tree. Like I don’t have anything better or more pressing to do than take a drive through his random thoughts and opinions. He should get his own blog!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Cheney, a bus driver, and the DMV
It’s been a strange morning. First of all, on the radio while I was getting ready for work, I hear that Cheney is writing his memoirs. I wanted to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over my head. I really don’t want to know what goes on in that man’s head. What he lets out is frightening enough.
Apparently he is whining that Bush stopped listening to him during their second administration and started caving to liberal political groups. I’m very sure that what Cheney considers liberal most of us would still consider conservative, because anything we would consider liberal he just dismisses as a crazy bunch of idiots. I personally consider his kind of conservatives a scary bunch of crazies, but hey, that’s American politics. It takes all kinds of crazies to make he run. It may not be getting anywhere but its running.
We had a very interesting bus driver this morning. He welcomed us on board, gave us the time and weather, a traffic report, and an estimated time of arrival. Wow! If that wasn’t enough, he didn’t slam on the brakes, sending us all grabbing for support and having to readjust our seating, even once. The temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. He apologized for being later than his estimated time of arrival, and he lowered the bus for all stops. This guy deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. It everyone did their jobs so well, the world would certainly be a much better place! I could kick myself for not getting his name, so I could write C-Tran a letter.
As my bus crossed the river and entered the heart of downtown Portland, I noticed an older model Saab with an interesting license plate: CRASH-B. It made me wonder about a lot of things. Like why anyone would want a license plate with the word “crash” on it. Isn’t that like welcoming doom? Also, what happened to CRASH-A? Is it in a scrap yard some where, or at home in the driveway quivering in fear of the road, knowing its days are numbered?
I also wondered what the DMV was thinking when they issued this plate. I know they have people that act as moral sensors who approve all vanity plates. While CRASH is certainly not typically thought of as a word with 4-letter connotations, I would think that the DMV would have concerns with promoting this particular concept, especially on the road. Hey, that just me, it may be crazy talk but I’m just putting it out there. Someone needs to ask the questions.
Apparently he is whining that Bush stopped listening to him during their second administration and started caving to liberal political groups. I’m very sure that what Cheney considers liberal most of us would still consider conservative, because anything we would consider liberal he just dismisses as a crazy bunch of idiots. I personally consider his kind of conservatives a scary bunch of crazies, but hey, that’s American politics. It takes all kinds of crazies to make he run. It may not be getting anywhere but its running.
We had a very interesting bus driver this morning. He welcomed us on board, gave us the time and weather, a traffic report, and an estimated time of arrival. Wow! If that wasn’t enough, he didn’t slam on the brakes, sending us all grabbing for support and having to readjust our seating, even once. The temperature wasn’t too hot or too cold. He apologized for being later than his estimated time of arrival, and he lowered the bus for all stops. This guy deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. It everyone did their jobs so well, the world would certainly be a much better place! I could kick myself for not getting his name, so I could write C-Tran a letter.
As my bus crossed the river and entered the heart of downtown Portland, I noticed an older model Saab with an interesting license plate: CRASH-B. It made me wonder about a lot of things. Like why anyone would want a license plate with the word “crash” on it. Isn’t that like welcoming doom? Also, what happened to CRASH-A? Is it in a scrap yard some where, or at home in the driveway quivering in fear of the road, knowing its days are numbered?
I also wondered what the DMV was thinking when they issued this plate. I know they have people that act as moral sensors who approve all vanity plates. While CRASH is certainly not typically thought of as a word with 4-letter connotations, I would think that the DMV would have concerns with promoting this particular concept, especially on the road. Hey, that just me, it may be crazy talk but I’m just putting it out there. Someone needs to ask the questions.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Shock and awe
Matt came back from three weeks training in Idaho with the Guard. While he was gone they moved him to a new unit and made him a squad leader, or something like that. I never get it completely right. He seems to be enjoying the new position, and once he gets through some kind of leadership training, again I can’t keep all the alphabet soup straight, he will be promoted to E-6. For me E-6 means he is a second level sergeant, also known as a Staff Sergeant. I know this is important to Matt because at this level he can become a trainer, which he really enjoys.
While on this training with his new privates and specialists, he was putting them through their paces. They are getting used to him and he is learning about them. At one point they are running a drill where they are simulating building searches. Matt has all his soldiers stacked up the way he wants them and they’re ready to go. Matt step up and kick in the door with his left leg and oops…. He forgot the liner on his prosthetic that morning. The door bangs open and Matt’s leg goes flying through the opening to land in the middle of the room. While Matt’s arms are pin-wheeling to keep his balance, all his soldiers are frozen place. They can’t believe they’ve seen what they just seen. Their sargeant’s leg is laying in the middle of the room. Apparently Matt hadn’t mentioned to any of them that his leg had special powers. The fun you can have with limbs.
While on this training with his new privates and specialists, he was putting them through their paces. They are getting used to him and he is learning about them. At one point they are running a drill where they are simulating building searches. Matt has all his soldiers stacked up the way he wants them and they’re ready to go. Matt step up and kick in the door with his left leg and oops…. He forgot the liner on his prosthetic that morning. The door bangs open and Matt’s leg goes flying through the opening to land in the middle of the room. While Matt’s arms are pin-wheeling to keep his balance, all his soldiers are frozen place. They can’t believe they’ve seen what they just seen. Their sargeant’s leg is laying in the middle of the room. Apparently Matt hadn’t mentioned to any of them that his leg had special powers. The fun you can have with limbs.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Resting on the weekend
This was a very pleasant weekend. I didn’t have anything that I had to do. I worked in the garden; I put up pickles and tomatoes, and have my sister, my friend Wendy and their kids over for dinner Saturday. We ended up with some extra kids, but we usually do, no bug deal.
After dinner Danna, Wendy and I played some dominoes while the kids ran around outside and played. There were 4 girls and 2 boys from 10 years old to 14. As is the usual case, the boys and girls seem to group themselves together and then proceed to pick at each other. The girls decided they needed a force field and ended up sitting in Wendy’s car while the boys made faces in the window and blew bubbles at the car. I can’t explain it, I just report it.
Of course the girls had to whine and complain about being bothered by the boys so we told the boys to get away from the car and leave the girls alone. Their answer to this was to move a couple of feet away and continue to make faces and blow bubbles. Again, I can’t explain it.
Eventually the girls got tired of sitting in the car and decided to go play in the field behind my house, and they let the boys go too. Before too long they are running in out showing us what they’ve found and reporting each others words and actions. Alright, they were tattling.
Oh yeah, did I mention that Rusty, my sisters big red dog is there too? Running around chasing the kids and generally being in the big middle of everything. One of Rusty’s favorite things is to run out one door, go all the way around the house and in the other door. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Saturday he was doing is typically circuit around the through the house, and all of a sudden there’s another dog with him. A brown and white dog we have never seen before. A really friendly guy who was really enjoying Rusty and the kids. After about 20 or so loops through the house and some wrestling on the front lawn he disappeared as quickly as he arrived. I think I will call him the Lone Ranger.
I guess it’s just another day in an everyday life.
P.S. I won at domineos!! Hey me!!
After dinner Danna, Wendy and I played some dominoes while the kids ran around outside and played. There were 4 girls and 2 boys from 10 years old to 14. As is the usual case, the boys and girls seem to group themselves together and then proceed to pick at each other. The girls decided they needed a force field and ended up sitting in Wendy’s car while the boys made faces in the window and blew bubbles at the car. I can’t explain it, I just report it.
Of course the girls had to whine and complain about being bothered by the boys so we told the boys to get away from the car and leave the girls alone. Their answer to this was to move a couple of feet away and continue to make faces and blow bubbles. Again, I can’t explain it.
Eventually the girls got tired of sitting in the car and decided to go play in the field behind my house, and they let the boys go too. Before too long they are running in out showing us what they’ve found and reporting each others words and actions. Alright, they were tattling.
Oh yeah, did I mention that Rusty, my sisters big red dog is there too? Running around chasing the kids and generally being in the big middle of everything. One of Rusty’s favorite things is to run out one door, go all the way around the house and in the other door. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Saturday he was doing is typically circuit around the through the house, and all of a sudden there’s another dog with him. A brown and white dog we have never seen before. A really friendly guy who was really enjoying Rusty and the kids. After about 20 or so loops through the house and some wrestling on the front lawn he disappeared as quickly as he arrived. I think I will call him the Lone Ranger.
I guess it’s just another day in an everyday life.
P.S. I won at domineos!! Hey me!!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Stencils, spray paint, gator board and teamwork
Today has been an interesting metal exercise. Our program would like to advertise some structures that will be coming to neighborhoods soon, stormwater facilities, aka: green streets. So we have run through several ideas, starting with yard signs. The first yard sign is nice and glossy and will be used for a special event, but it costs $200. To mark all locations we need something very cheap since we’re looking at about 200 sites, so I start off thinking little Corex (corrugated plastic) signs. That would be much cheaper and they could be reused, at least the ones we get back. Of course, there is the storage issue, we have no place to store them when not in use, and I would have to track where they have been posted. Too much work, I don’t have that kind of time!!
Then a co-worker has the great idea that we use a stencil. (I’ve told you before I work with geniuses.) So now the discussion is, do we use a simple stencil sheet we can lay on the road and give a quick shot of paint to, or do we look at a larger, foldable stencil that would allow us, or the survey crews, to mark the actual outline of a facility? The first version of the big foldable idea had it made out of hinged plywood. I pointed out that would be too heavy and large for easy use or storage. The next suggestion was to use gator board instead of plywood.
(Our discussion on this topic has been via email. I love email, at least when it’s not spam.)
Gator board? I’d never heard of if so I turned to my pod mates and asked if they know what it is. Stephen thought it was the mesh you use to mount tile. He’s been tiling his two bathrooms for the last couple of weekends so he can be excused the thought. David popped up and asked if that is when you try to waterboard an alligator. I’m not sure what David has been doing in his off days, and maybe I don’t want to ask.
It turns out that Gator Board is a brand name for a foam core type product. (I also love Goggle!) It’s more durable then foam core. I’m still thinking we need something thin and pliable, like maybe something you can roll up and put a rubber band around when you’re not using it.
The second issue we’re faced with is spray paint. It’s basically nasty stuff for the environment and since we are an environmental bureau we should try not to harm it anymore. So I did what else? A Goggle search for eco friendly spray paint. Boy were there a lot of people who have posted questions about the availability of such a product, but not very many products. I found one brand that carries low VOV latex spray paint. It’s still aerosol though. I’ve sent the info to the team we’ll see what they think. Our only other alternative is an electric paint sprayer, not very handy. The paint companies need to busy on this idea!!
I love this whole process. We start with a very simple idea: get our future facilities marked. In a matter of a few emails shared between about six people we are moving toward something that will be better than anything just one of us could have come up with. I love good teamwork!
Then a co-worker has the great idea that we use a stencil. (I’ve told you before I work with geniuses.) So now the discussion is, do we use a simple stencil sheet we can lay on the road and give a quick shot of paint to, or do we look at a larger, foldable stencil that would allow us, or the survey crews, to mark the actual outline of a facility? The first version of the big foldable idea had it made out of hinged plywood. I pointed out that would be too heavy and large for easy use or storage. The next suggestion was to use gator board instead of plywood.
(Our discussion on this topic has been via email. I love email, at least when it’s not spam.)
Gator board? I’d never heard of if so I turned to my pod mates and asked if they know what it is. Stephen thought it was the mesh you use to mount tile. He’s been tiling his two bathrooms for the last couple of weekends so he can be excused the thought. David popped up and asked if that is when you try to waterboard an alligator. I’m not sure what David has been doing in his off days, and maybe I don’t want to ask.
It turns out that Gator Board is a brand name for a foam core type product. (I also love Goggle!) It’s more durable then foam core. I’m still thinking we need something thin and pliable, like maybe something you can roll up and put a rubber band around when you’re not using it.
The second issue we’re faced with is spray paint. It’s basically nasty stuff for the environment and since we are an environmental bureau we should try not to harm it anymore. So I did what else? A Goggle search for eco friendly spray paint. Boy were there a lot of people who have posted questions about the availability of such a product, but not very many products. I found one brand that carries low VOV latex spray paint. It’s still aerosol though. I’ve sent the info to the team we’ll see what they think. Our only other alternative is an electric paint sprayer, not very handy. The paint companies need to busy on this idea!!
I love this whole process. We start with a very simple idea: get our future facilities marked. In a matter of a few emails shared between about six people we are moving toward something that will be better than anything just one of us could have come up with. I love good teamwork!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Fun with tanks and horses
This is a very busy week at work. I am working extremely late two nights, putting in 13 hour days. Yesterday was one, and today is another. Last night I attended a National Night Out neighborhood party where I manned a table with information on a project we are proposing for a major stretch of road in the area. It was actually quite a nice party with a good band, people dancing, kids having fun, plenty of food, and attractions to keep everyone engaged.
The attractions included groups and organizations with tables set up to make information available, like mine. I noticed that the tables giving away something, anything, had the largest numbers of visitors. It didn’t matter if it was a pin you could clip onto your shirt, a bumper sticker, blow-up beach ball or a fabric shopping bag, people just love to get something for free.
Other attractions involved the mobile precinct from the police bureau, a tank from the FBI, and fire engines. The most popular, by far, were the horses of the police’s mounted patrol. I use to work closely with the commander at Central Precinct, who commanded that unit. He always said if he had a dollar for every time someone petted one of the horses, he would never have a funding problem. They really are great horses!
Every time I looked over at the FBI tank the same little boy was hanging out the top hatch with a big grin on his face and having the time of his life. If possession is 9/10 of the law, that child now owns a tank. “Mom, look what I brought home!”
Tonight I’ll be working late with a community action committee for an upcoming, very large and high profile project. I’m pretty sure there will be no band, no ice cream, no horses and no excited kids. Few of will be having any fun at all.
The attractions included groups and organizations with tables set up to make information available, like mine. I noticed that the tables giving away something, anything, had the largest numbers of visitors. It didn’t matter if it was a pin you could clip onto your shirt, a bumper sticker, blow-up beach ball or a fabric shopping bag, people just love to get something for free.
Other attractions involved the mobile precinct from the police bureau, a tank from the FBI, and fire engines. The most popular, by far, were the horses of the police’s mounted patrol. I use to work closely with the commander at Central Precinct, who commanded that unit. He always said if he had a dollar for every time someone petted one of the horses, he would never have a funding problem. They really are great horses!
Every time I looked over at the FBI tank the same little boy was hanging out the top hatch with a big grin on his face and having the time of his life. If possession is 9/10 of the law, that child now owns a tank. “Mom, look what I brought home!”
Tonight I’ll be working late with a community action committee for an upcoming, very large and high profile project. I’m pretty sure there will be no band, no ice cream, no horses and no excited kids. Few of will be having any fun at all.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Amazing response
Friday my sister and I went to visit our mother, who lives about 45 minutes from us. Most of the trip is along I-5. Going was no problem and we had a lovely visit.
On the way home, at about the half way mark, the truck him front of me swerved from the middle lane into the left hand lane. As the view cleared I see a big twisted chunk red metal in my lane, and a motorcyclist lying motionless between me and it. Luckily I wasn’t follow very close and had plenty of room to stop, and the vehicle behind me was a fair distance back. (How often does that happen?)
I get stopped and set my flashers, so no one can run over this guy. Immediately several people with some emergency response experience stop and start to render aid. Everyone is on the phone calling it in. I’m directing traffic trying to keep vehicles moving past the site and another guy is up the road waving all the traffic over the far left lane. At this point the highway is down to a single lane.
One woman stops and gives us every thing in her emergency kit. Most people move through at a good pace and everyone up the line makes way for the police and EMTs as they arrive. All in all it was an amazing, unrehearsed performance done in unison by complete strangers, all for the benefit of a guy lying helpless in the middle of the road.
I’ve thought about this a lot over the weekend. This was such an amazing event, not because something dramatic and life threatening happened, but because so many people took immediate action on behalf of someone they didn’t know, in a situation they didn’t have any responsibility for, and none of them ever questioned why they did it. What an outstanding example of all that is right with our country, and the human race!
Too often we get really cynical about the human condition, you all know I’ve certainly suffered from that, but actually there is a lot with us. We need to take the time to see it and acknowledge it.
I think about the motorcyclist, laying there in the road, unable to move, but aware of his surrounding. How terrifying that must have been, to know you’re down, in the middle of the highway. I’m sure he expected to be run over.
I wonder what happened to him and if he’s going to be alright. We didn’t stay. As soon as the EMTs and enough police showed up take over my traffic duties, and Danna’s schlepping duties, we left. We hadn’t seen the accident happen, and we would have just been in the way at that point. So we have no idea where he was taken, or what the on-site assessment of his condition was. We just hope he is doing well, where ever he is.
If you have moment please send out a prayer, or some positive thoughts for him.
On the way home, at about the half way mark, the truck him front of me swerved from the middle lane into the left hand lane. As the view cleared I see a big twisted chunk red metal in my lane, and a motorcyclist lying motionless between me and it. Luckily I wasn’t follow very close and had plenty of room to stop, and the vehicle behind me was a fair distance back. (How often does that happen?)
I get stopped and set my flashers, so no one can run over this guy. Immediately several people with some emergency response experience stop and start to render aid. Everyone is on the phone calling it in. I’m directing traffic trying to keep vehicles moving past the site and another guy is up the road waving all the traffic over the far left lane. At this point the highway is down to a single lane.
One woman stops and gives us every thing in her emergency kit. Most people move through at a good pace and everyone up the line makes way for the police and EMTs as they arrive. All in all it was an amazing, unrehearsed performance done in unison by complete strangers, all for the benefit of a guy lying helpless in the middle of the road.
I’ve thought about this a lot over the weekend. This was such an amazing event, not because something dramatic and life threatening happened, but because so many people took immediate action on behalf of someone they didn’t know, in a situation they didn’t have any responsibility for, and none of them ever questioned why they did it. What an outstanding example of all that is right with our country, and the human race!
Too often we get really cynical about the human condition, you all know I’ve certainly suffered from that, but actually there is a lot with us. We need to take the time to see it and acknowledge it.
I think about the motorcyclist, laying there in the road, unable to move, but aware of his surrounding. How terrifying that must have been, to know you’re down, in the middle of the highway. I’m sure he expected to be run over.
I wonder what happened to him and if he’s going to be alright. We didn’t stay. As soon as the EMTs and enough police showed up take over my traffic duties, and Danna’s schlepping duties, we left. We hadn’t seen the accident happen, and we would have just been in the way at that point. So we have no idea where he was taken, or what the on-site assessment of his condition was. We just hope he is doing well, where ever he is.
If you have moment please send out a prayer, or some positive thoughts for him.
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