The day was young, and the sound of music was light,
We gazed round the room and cherished the sight.
The items were heaped, over flowing from a chest,
Food, snacks, toys, books, silly thing and, all the rest.
We divided and stacked, the socks a pile of white,
Christmas cards, and multicolored stocking filled with delight.
This weeks shopping was better then we could believe,
There would be enough for all our soldiers on Christmas Eve.
Our eyes were bright, as we packed the boxes deep,
The liquids were baggied so they wouldn’t seep.
The heavy items placed in cardboard corners, near the seam,
And little tiny candies and mixes, fit in tight spaces like a dream.
As we packed we laughed, and wished our soldiers were near,
But instead told stories of emails and letters in each others ears.
There were special things, to each other we wanted to show,
Things with meanings, we knew our soldiers would know.
We each told stories, so fun to hear,
And in our hearts, holding our solders dear.
Once the boxes were filled, and taped down tight,
We broke out the markers, and decorated them bright.
There were angels, and flags in colors so bold,
And then we added trees and snowmen so cold.
Once we were done, with gladness we smiled,
Standing over our boxes, we whooped it up wild.
"I think mine looks best?" I said without fear,
"Look at the halo, and the wings right here!
There’s a nice red heart, and trim on the sleeve,
She’ll bring a smile come Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw their eyes shift,
Away from me, to their boxes their sites did drift. .
Their opinions differed, and their voices weren’t light
They sighed and then said "You’re looking for a fight,
Ours are great, too. We think we all did alright.
You can just simmer down, and put your box back in line,
There’s still more, it’s Customs Form time.”
" I hate Customs Forms and they hate me,
All that writing and writing until I can’t see.
My hands turned to pains, and cramps,"
I sighed, "Let’s get start, go get the lamps.
Why must there be 5 pages, man oh man,
We press down with the pens, as hard as we can.
In the north is Mosul, and a little east is Kirkuk,
Baghdad is central, and for the west at the map we must look.
There is Jason at HHC, then there’s Nicole at CID,
And Elizabeth and Dat in Company C.
"I hope they have decorated, and aren’t feeling alone,
I wish they were with family, in a house and at home.
Those retched forms are done, and we rise to our feet,
It was time for the post office, through the rain and the sleet.
We can carry the weight, we’re each a mother,
Stacking the boxes in the car, next to one another.
We have the Customs Form for one and all,
Ready for that cute postal clerk, John Paul.
"Wal-Mart has socks on sale," Mom said, "and a little flashlight,
We can stop on the way back, just take a right."
"After that we can stop at Target, their price for deodorant is best,
And toothpaste," I said, "and then it’s the Dollar Store for the rest.
We’ll still need to add some things, like Hunny Buns,
Wouldn’t it be a great idea to add some magnets, maybe of a sun.”
As we drive off down the road, we plan our next box,
"Do you think it’s possible, perhaps to pack some lox?”.
Angels live for letters and cards, received and sent,
For a good themed box, and hoping they don’t get bent..
Angels love and care, always knowing it’s important that things are said,
We remember that our soldiers fought and bled.
We carry soldiers in our hearts, and in our pockets a Solidiers’ Angels coin,
and we hope you will visit www.soldiersangels.org to join."
Monday, November 29, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
1. How many steps does the guard take during his walk across the
tomb of the Unknowns and why?
21 steps. It alludes to the twenty-one gun salute, which is the
highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.
2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his
return walk and why?
21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1
3. Why are his gloves wet?
His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the
rifle.
4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time
and if not, why not?
He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb.
After his march across the path, he executes an about face
and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.
5. How often are the guards changed?
Guards are changed every thirty minutes,
twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?
For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be
between 5' 10" and 6' 2" tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30." Other
requirements of the Guard: They must commit 2 years of life to guard the
tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb, and cannot drink any alcohol on
or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public for the
rest of their lives and cannot disgrace the uniform {fighting} or the tomb in
any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on
their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only
400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their
lives or give up the wreath pin.
The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat
and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the
top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt.
There are no wrinkles, folds or lint on the uniform. Guards dress for duty
in front of a full-length mirror.
The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone, nor
watch TV. All off duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid
to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. A guard must memorize who they are
and where they are interred. Among the notables are: President Taft, Joe
E. Lewis {the boxer} and Medal of Honor winner Audie Murphy, {the most
decorated soldier of WWII} of Hollywood fame.
Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for
guard duty.
ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.
In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our
US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC
evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the
hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of
the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment. They
respectfully declined the offer, "No way, Sir!" Soaked to the skin,
marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding
the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be
afforded to a serviceperson. The tomb has been patrolled continuously,
24/7, since 1930.
God Bless and keep them.
I thought this was worth knowing.
tomb of the Unknowns and why?
21 steps. It alludes to the twenty-one gun salute, which is the
highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.
2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his
return walk and why?
21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1
3. Why are his gloves wet?
His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the
rifle.
4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time
and if not, why not?
He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb.
After his march across the path, he executes an about face
and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.
5. How often are the guards changed?
Guards are changed every thirty minutes,
twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?
For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be
between 5' 10" and 6' 2" tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30." Other
requirements of the Guard: They must commit 2 years of life to guard the
tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb, and cannot drink any alcohol on
or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public for the
rest of their lives and cannot disgrace the uniform {fighting} or the tomb in
any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on
their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only
400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their
lives or give up the wreath pin.
The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat
and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the
top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt.
There are no wrinkles, folds or lint on the uniform. Guards dress for duty
in front of a full-length mirror.
The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone, nor
watch TV. All off duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid
to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. A guard must memorize who they are
and where they are interred. Among the notables are: President Taft, Joe
E. Lewis {the boxer} and Medal of Honor winner Audie Murphy, {the most
decorated soldier of WWII} of Hollywood fame.
Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for
guard duty.
ETERNAL REST GRANT THEM O LORD, AND LET PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE UPON THEM.
In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our
US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC
evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the
hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of
the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment. They
respectfully declined the offer, "No way, Sir!" Soaked to the skin,
marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding
the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be
afforded to a serviceperson. The tomb has been patrolled continuously,
24/7, since 1930.
God Bless and keep them.
I thought this was worth knowing.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Dialing "1" under pressure
To dial one, or not to dial one, that is the question. At least it’s kind of the question I asked myself yesterday. There are two different area codes for the city of Portland, one of them is 503, the other one is something I can never remember. In part, because I just don’t run across it very often, and considering the number people I talk to every month, tells me that there really aren’t that many people with this other area code. So, I’m in the process of calling someone back who has left me a voice mail. I dial “9” to get the outside line, then the area code (not 503) and the number. Well, of course this area code is not that other area code I can never remember. It’s for someplace other than Portland, even though the caller is calling about a their home address here in Portland.
So, you know what happened, I got that annoying recording telling if I need to dial “1” when calling this number. Usually I just hang up and dial again using the “1” as directed. I’m such a mindless drone! For some reason yesterday, this recording really irked me. For one thing aren’t area codes unique? So if you’ve dialed an area code doesn’t the system know where to send the call? How does dialing “1” add anything to the process? The system obviously knew it needed a “1” so why didn’t it just send the call one. Why to I have to put in something you already know is part of it? And, why does the “1” on a long distance call still even exist?
Why can I make the same call, without the “1”, on my cell phone and there’s no annoying recording. It goes through, no problemo lameo! Why are land lines not keeping up with cell technology? I have a theory, of course. They want to piss up all off so we will all move over to cell phone service. Which we are as individuals, but at work we still have land lines to deal with.
My co-work, the ever sane Stephen, watching me have my mini meltdown over the issue of the “1”, just smiled and said, “Rhetta, I hope you’re not going to lose sleep of this.” He is now my meditation master. The one to call me down from the ledge. The one who will gently take the gun and unload it, while speaking in a calm and steady voice.
After my run in with the “1” I heard about the flight attendant who had the meltdown, gave a piece of his mind to an ill behaved passenger and then lowered the escape ramp and left with a couple of beers. You know I can really sympathize with this guy, and there have been many times over the past 15 years that I’ve worked with the public, that would have loved to do something very similar. Hell, I wanted to do it yesterday with phone company! You’ve read my blog on municipal black ops hit squad. But, so far I’ve managed to walk away without losing it. I’m just hoping that trend will continue.
It’s only a matter of time before there is a really nasty issue in the air, not involving a terrorist. It will however, involve a customer who has reached the absolute end of their rope. Flying used to be a civilized activity, people dressed nicely, and were treated very well. Now some passengers don’t even bath before getting on planes, and we’re all treated like cattle being transported to the slaughter house. Hell, cattle are probably treated better.
You have to have the patience of Job to fly commercial today. You wait in line to be checked in, unless you’re paid an extra fee so you can pass through the express line. Then you have to pay if you actually want to take luggage with you on your trip. Airlines used to want you to check your luggage and NOT carry it onboard with you. Now they have devised a system that has everyone carrying their luggage onboard. Next, you wait in line to pass through security, unless you’ve paid extra to pass through the express line.
Once through security, you’re alone and lugging all the stuff, you used to check, with you down the long hall looking for your gate. Along the way you want to pick up a bottle of water, since you had to leave your’s at security. You even think about getting a magazine to read while you wait to board the plane. After paying five dollars for a small bottle of water, you decide you can’t really afford to look at magazines and continue your three mile trudge to the gate, to wait some more.
Because you didn’t buy a first class ticket, an obviously indictment against your worth to society, you have to wait while the “special” people board first. Of course, as you board, somewhere in the middle of the pack, it’s impossible to get down the aisle because everyone is trying to stow their luggage. Once you find your seat, you have to try to find a place to stow your luggage. It worse than fighting off a pack of wild wolves to get your stuff put away before some else grabs the spot, usually some tall, oblivious 20 year old.
You’re finally seated and now you have to start worrying about who will be setting next to you, and in front of you, and behind you. These people will, to a great extent, be determining the level of your comfort for the next several hours. You get the mom with the screaming baby, of the child that likes to kick the back of your seat, or the guy in front who thinks it acceptable to lean his seat all the way back. Who is there a reclining function on an airline seat? Who thought that was a good idea? There are also the people with stinky feet who take their shoes off, the ones who pass gas and the ones who smoked a pack of cigarettes just before boarding. And, the heavy drinkers!
Then, just because this experience isn’t as awful as it could be, let’s just throw in a machincal difficulty that delays takeoff for, oh I don’t know, two hours!
It’s true that planes should have a warning, like aerosol cans, “Caution: Contents under pressure.” In fact, this warning could be spray painted across most public buildings as well.
So, you know what happened, I got that annoying recording telling if I need to dial “1” when calling this number. Usually I just hang up and dial again using the “1” as directed. I’m such a mindless drone! For some reason yesterday, this recording really irked me. For one thing aren’t area codes unique? So if you’ve dialed an area code doesn’t the system know where to send the call? How does dialing “1” add anything to the process? The system obviously knew it needed a “1” so why didn’t it just send the call one. Why to I have to put in something you already know is part of it? And, why does the “1” on a long distance call still even exist?
Why can I make the same call, without the “1”, on my cell phone and there’s no annoying recording. It goes through, no problemo lameo! Why are land lines not keeping up with cell technology? I have a theory, of course. They want to piss up all off so we will all move over to cell phone service. Which we are as individuals, but at work we still have land lines to deal with.
My co-work, the ever sane Stephen, watching me have my mini meltdown over the issue of the “1”, just smiled and said, “Rhetta, I hope you’re not going to lose sleep of this.” He is now my meditation master. The one to call me down from the ledge. The one who will gently take the gun and unload it, while speaking in a calm and steady voice.
After my run in with the “1” I heard about the flight attendant who had the meltdown, gave a piece of his mind to an ill behaved passenger and then lowered the escape ramp and left with a couple of beers. You know I can really sympathize with this guy, and there have been many times over the past 15 years that I’ve worked with the public, that would have loved to do something very similar. Hell, I wanted to do it yesterday with phone company! You’ve read my blog on municipal black ops hit squad. But, so far I’ve managed to walk away without losing it. I’m just hoping that trend will continue.
It’s only a matter of time before there is a really nasty issue in the air, not involving a terrorist. It will however, involve a customer who has reached the absolute end of their rope. Flying used to be a civilized activity, people dressed nicely, and were treated very well. Now some passengers don’t even bath before getting on planes, and we’re all treated like cattle being transported to the slaughter house. Hell, cattle are probably treated better.
You have to have the patience of Job to fly commercial today. You wait in line to be checked in, unless you’re paid an extra fee so you can pass through the express line. Then you have to pay if you actually want to take luggage with you on your trip. Airlines used to want you to check your luggage and NOT carry it onboard with you. Now they have devised a system that has everyone carrying their luggage onboard. Next, you wait in line to pass through security, unless you’ve paid extra to pass through the express line.
Once through security, you’re alone and lugging all the stuff, you used to check, with you down the long hall looking for your gate. Along the way you want to pick up a bottle of water, since you had to leave your’s at security. You even think about getting a magazine to read while you wait to board the plane. After paying five dollars for a small bottle of water, you decide you can’t really afford to look at magazines and continue your three mile trudge to the gate, to wait some more.
Because you didn’t buy a first class ticket, an obviously indictment against your worth to society, you have to wait while the “special” people board first. Of course, as you board, somewhere in the middle of the pack, it’s impossible to get down the aisle because everyone is trying to stow their luggage. Once you find your seat, you have to try to find a place to stow your luggage. It worse than fighting off a pack of wild wolves to get your stuff put away before some else grabs the spot, usually some tall, oblivious 20 year old.
You’re finally seated and now you have to start worrying about who will be setting next to you, and in front of you, and behind you. These people will, to a great extent, be determining the level of your comfort for the next several hours. You get the mom with the screaming baby, of the child that likes to kick the back of your seat, or the guy in front who thinks it acceptable to lean his seat all the way back. Who is there a reclining function on an airline seat? Who thought that was a good idea? There are also the people with stinky feet who take their shoes off, the ones who pass gas and the ones who smoked a pack of cigarettes just before boarding. And, the heavy drinkers!
Then, just because this experience isn’t as awful as it could be, let’s just throw in a machincal difficulty that delays takeoff for, oh I don’t know, two hours!
It’s true that planes should have a warning, like aerosol cans, “Caution: Contents under pressure.” In fact, this warning could be spray painted across most public buildings as well.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Hawks and chickens
During the day, at work, I occasionally pull up the Raptor Cam and check out a Red Tailed Hawk nest in downtown Portland. This year a pair of Red Tails laid three eggs and they all hatched. While the little ones were still all fuzzy we lost one. The other two have grown and continue to develop well. At the moment they are busy flapping around the nest and hopping onto the railing and window ledge. It won’t be long until they take up flying. I can’t wait to see that!
If you’re interested in seeing them you can go to: http://www.kgw.com/community/blogs/raptor-cam/KGW-Audubon-Raptor-Cam.html
At this same site there are also some photos of the Peregrine Falcons that nest on the bridge.
I guess this is my year to be fascinated by birds. I go home every evening and let my chickens out to roam the back yard. I love watching them. I also love that as soon as they see me coming out the back door they all run to the end of their enclosure. It’s great to see six little faces all so happy to see me.
I’ve been giving them new and different things to eat: bread, grapes, strawberries, and peanut butter on bread. The last is by far their favorite! They like them all, but something about the peanut butter really get them excited. Wel,l that and the flowers in my containers along the edge of the patio. I keep a spray bottle handy, full of water to shot them with when they start wrecking havoc. I think they are beginning to learn not to mess with the containers, but at the same time they still need regular reminders in a liquid form.
The other day Sugar, who does everything first, started clucking. I mean really clucking, not just a screech as they have all been doing from time to time. The whole gang was all clustered up at the edge of the garden pecking away at grass and leaves, when she began to cluck. Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck……Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck …..Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck. She looked quite distressed, like she couldn’t figure out what was happening. She wasn’t the only one. All of the other girls ran across the yard, next to the run, huddled together and stared at her. They kept their distance for awhile after she had gotten over her little spell. None of them are quite sure what happened but they don’t seem to be looking forward to a repeat.
They are all taking their turns at flying. This usually happens when they have been spooked by something. This could be such terrifying things as a gust of wind, a falling leaf, a butterfly, or nothing at all. All the squawking starts, the running, the wing flapping, and then at least two or three will lift off. At first the landings were a bit rough, but they seem to have gotten the hang of it now.
People keep telling they will fly up into trees if I don’t clip their wings. I don’t have any trees in my yard, and they all seem determined to get back to the run as quick as possible when they get spooked, so I’ve decided not to worry about that. At least not until one of them actually flies up onto a limb of a neighbor’s tree. Then I will be faced with how to get them down. What fun!!
If you’re interested in seeing them you can go to: http://www.kgw.com/community/blogs/raptor-cam/KGW-Audubon-Raptor-Cam.html
At this same site there are also some photos of the Peregrine Falcons that nest on the bridge.
I guess this is my year to be fascinated by birds. I go home every evening and let my chickens out to roam the back yard. I love watching them. I also love that as soon as they see me coming out the back door they all run to the end of their enclosure. It’s great to see six little faces all so happy to see me.
I’ve been giving them new and different things to eat: bread, grapes, strawberries, and peanut butter on bread. The last is by far their favorite! They like them all, but something about the peanut butter really get them excited. Wel,l that and the flowers in my containers along the edge of the patio. I keep a spray bottle handy, full of water to shot them with when they start wrecking havoc. I think they are beginning to learn not to mess with the containers, but at the same time they still need regular reminders in a liquid form.
The other day Sugar, who does everything first, started clucking. I mean really clucking, not just a screech as they have all been doing from time to time. The whole gang was all clustered up at the edge of the garden pecking away at grass and leaves, when she began to cluck. Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck……Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck …..Cluuuuck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck. She looked quite distressed, like she couldn’t figure out what was happening. She wasn’t the only one. All of the other girls ran across the yard, next to the run, huddled together and stared at her. They kept their distance for awhile after she had gotten over her little spell. None of them are quite sure what happened but they don’t seem to be looking forward to a repeat.
They are all taking their turns at flying. This usually happens when they have been spooked by something. This could be such terrifying things as a gust of wind, a falling leaf, a butterfly, or nothing at all. All the squawking starts, the running, the wing flapping, and then at least two or three will lift off. At first the landings were a bit rough, but they seem to have gotten the hang of it now.
People keep telling they will fly up into trees if I don’t clip their wings. I don’t have any trees in my yard, and they all seem determined to get back to the run as quick as possible when they get spooked, so I’ve decided not to worry about that. At least not until one of them actually flies up onto a limb of a neighbor’s tree. Then I will be faced with how to get them down. What fun!!
Monday, May 17, 2010
Craigslist and treasure hunts
I have a wire rabbit hutch for sale on Craigslist. This is the first time I’ve tried to sell anything on there, and I have to say I’m not having the best of luck. My ad says, “Rabbit Hutch, wire, $40.00. Wire rabbit hutch in excellent condition.” And, I’ve included a photo. I didn’t think I really needed to say anymore, you know a picture is worth a thousand words, which is a good thing because Craigslist won’t let me use a thousand word. Honestly I don’t think I could come up with that many words for it anyway.
So everybody that has emailed me, all 3 of them, have wanted to know something. Mostly the dimensions, or if it has trays in the bottom. I guess I should go in and edit my ad to include that info, but I can’t seem to find any of the 9 million tape measures I’ve bought over the years! I even buy them in neon colors so they will be easier to find!! I have been reduced to giving approximate dimensions.
My brother can throw up an ad on Craigslist that says, “Ratty old fencing and post, $50.00” with no pictures, and people will get into a bidding war. I am definitely missing the salesman gene!
My brother and his family are coming to visit next month and I sure hope I have this thing sold and off the patio by then. Of course there are other things I need to get off the patio as well, like what is left of the dresser I bought for the drawer to use as nesting boxes, and other parts for other things. Luckily the neighborhood cleanup is just around the corner and just before they arrive for vacation, so this could be a good thing.
Speaking of our soon to arrive family, my family is really heavy on boys, so these visits are always rowdy affairs. Over the past few years we have been doing a treasure hunt. Its great fun weather you’re a treasure hunter part of the planning and set up. Last year, the kids were all old enough to have our treasure hunt spread out over the neighborhood. It took them about an hour to make it through all the clues and arrive at the final location, the field behind my house. My sister, sister-in-law and I were all on the back patio watching them search for the treasure. For 20 minutes they crawled all through the grove of tree trying to find the treasure. They went around the tree the treasure was hanging in about a hundred times. It had a red rope tied to the tree to let it down. But, around and around they went. Those of us on the patio were laughing so hard we were in near hysterics. I’m already planning the hunt for this year, I can’t wait.
So everybody that has emailed me, all 3 of them, have wanted to know something. Mostly the dimensions, or if it has trays in the bottom. I guess I should go in and edit my ad to include that info, but I can’t seem to find any of the 9 million tape measures I’ve bought over the years! I even buy them in neon colors so they will be easier to find!! I have been reduced to giving approximate dimensions.
My brother can throw up an ad on Craigslist that says, “Ratty old fencing and post, $50.00” with no pictures, and people will get into a bidding war. I am definitely missing the salesman gene!
My brother and his family are coming to visit next month and I sure hope I have this thing sold and off the patio by then. Of course there are other things I need to get off the patio as well, like what is left of the dresser I bought for the drawer to use as nesting boxes, and other parts for other things. Luckily the neighborhood cleanup is just around the corner and just before they arrive for vacation, so this could be a good thing.
Speaking of our soon to arrive family, my family is really heavy on boys, so these visits are always rowdy affairs. Over the past few years we have been doing a treasure hunt. Its great fun weather you’re a treasure hunter part of the planning and set up. Last year, the kids were all old enough to have our treasure hunt spread out over the neighborhood. It took them about an hour to make it through all the clues and arrive at the final location, the field behind my house. My sister, sister-in-law and I were all on the back patio watching them search for the treasure. For 20 minutes they crawled all through the grove of tree trying to find the treasure. They went around the tree the treasure was hanging in about a hundred times. It had a red rope tied to the tree to let it down. But, around and around they went. Those of us on the patio were laughing so hard we were in near hysterics. I’m already planning the hunt for this year, I can’t wait.
Friday, May 14, 2010
The sun is shining, the temps are up, the garden is growing, the chickens are happy and life is good… outside. Unfortunately I’m stuck inside at my deck wishing I was home and outside. Damn! Who came up the idea of work anyway?
Of course on wet and miserable days I don’t mind working inside, or on those hot and humid day. We have so few really exceptional days that I feel staying inside for them is just plain offensive. I’m in search of a car at this very moment so can do some site visits on some of my projects. I won’t even have to carry along my wet gear, just my sunglasses.
I’m in the market for a new warm weather drink. Yesterday I went to lunch with a coworker and she ordered an Arnold Palmer. I was a little taken aback thinking she was drinking during work hours, and she is so not the type to do that. Apparently an Arnold Palmer is half ice tea and half lemonade. Doesn’t that sound lovely? I’m going to mix up a batch this weekend with some good tea, and maybe even splash in a bit of something more potent. I’ll be on the patio if anyone wants to come try it out with me.
Just got back from vacation recently and I thought I should let you all know that my trips through the Kansas City Airport were a great improvement over my previous trip. I made it through without a single meltdown.
Time with the grandkids was awesome!! They’re brilliant, and amazing, and totally wonderful!! I wish I could have packed them all up and brought them home with me.
My daughter is so brave. I don’t think I could what she is doing. Starting college again, with two very small children while here husband is deployed and having no one close by that she knows well. She just makes me so proud! I wish she was closer, or that I could be there more often to help out.
I was driving down the road the other day when I saw one of those things that just make you scratch your head and say, what were they thinking? There is a road side business with a sign out front, and erected next to the business is a big billboard. Now these two signs were stacked on in front of the other, so the first is for the business and says, “XXX Adult Videos”, the billboard is for the Boys and Girls Club and giant letters is says, “Be passionate!” I nearly wreck the car for laughing.
Of course on wet and miserable days I don’t mind working inside, or on those hot and humid day. We have so few really exceptional days that I feel staying inside for them is just plain offensive. I’m in search of a car at this very moment so can do some site visits on some of my projects. I won’t even have to carry along my wet gear, just my sunglasses.
I’m in the market for a new warm weather drink. Yesterday I went to lunch with a coworker and she ordered an Arnold Palmer. I was a little taken aback thinking she was drinking during work hours, and she is so not the type to do that. Apparently an Arnold Palmer is half ice tea and half lemonade. Doesn’t that sound lovely? I’m going to mix up a batch this weekend with some good tea, and maybe even splash in a bit of something more potent. I’ll be on the patio if anyone wants to come try it out with me.
Just got back from vacation recently and I thought I should let you all know that my trips through the Kansas City Airport were a great improvement over my previous trip. I made it through without a single meltdown.
Time with the grandkids was awesome!! They’re brilliant, and amazing, and totally wonderful!! I wish I could have packed them all up and brought them home with me.
My daughter is so brave. I don’t think I could what she is doing. Starting college again, with two very small children while here husband is deployed and having no one close by that she knows well. She just makes me so proud! I wish she was closer, or that I could be there more often to help out.
I was driving down the road the other day when I saw one of those things that just make you scratch your head and say, what were they thinking? There is a road side business with a sign out front, and erected next to the business is a big billboard. Now these two signs were stacked on in front of the other, so the first is for the business and says, “XXX Adult Videos”, the billboard is for the Boys and Girls Club and giant letters is says, “Be passionate!” I nearly wreck the car for laughing.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Kansas, not exactly what I thought
OK, I knew Kansas would be a little different, but what do you say when Kansas gets weird? "You're not in Kansas anymore" just doesn't fit the occasion.
This morning on the radio I heard the D.J.s do a phone in contest to give away Extreme Midget Wrestling tickets. I mean really, not just midget wrestling, but EXTREME midget wrestling? I don't even want to think what that might involve. And what was the contest you might ask, well you had to guess the age of the Guinness Book of World Record's smallest person, who could walk. This was a man who recently passed away in China. He was 21, a chain smoker and had reached rock star status in his home country. Or, at least according to the D.J.s.
Following this contest, of which there was no shortage of phone-in participants, they went right into their headlines. The headline given the most attention was of a woman who found an unlit cigarette in the bottom of her son's Happy Meal. The D.J. went on to say that MacDonalds had offered the mother a settlement including free meals for the family and money. The mother has refused and is planning a suite against the food chain. Now apparently the D.J.s had a photo of the child, who happens to be a year old. They made a few comments about the mother in choosing to give her 1 year old son a Happy Meal, then went on to describe the child as a "tank". In fact, they spent quite a bit of time discussing the size of this little boy.
Just driving around here in the sticks of Kansas you will notice a lot of things with the word cowboy, spelled with a "K", Kowboy.
Manhattan, Kansas, where I happen to be is the home of Kansas State University, which by all accounts is an excellent school. Their school colors are purple and white, so everywhere you go there are people wearing purple, purple flags, purple dumpsters, purple everything. No ruby slippers, but I'm dead positive that at least one person here owns a pair of purple glitter shoes.
We visited Ft Riley the other day for a childrens' festival and after wards we went to the PX on post. Along the way we noticed a group of what we thought were horses in a field, but turned out to be mules. Apparently Army mules. Who knew they still existed?
While driving through the post, in its more wooded areas, you will see signs that say "Tank Crossing". These signs should be taken seriously. Drivers should slow down or stop and watch for tanks. Tanks always have the right of way. Well, duh!!
Oddly enough I haven't seen a single scarecrow, even though this is big farm country. The radio is filled with ads for crop insurance, farm equipment, and seeds.
So the next time you think about using the pharse, "You're not in Kansas anymore", you might consider if it really fits the situation, because it may more like Kansas then you imagine.
This morning on the radio I heard the D.J.s do a phone in contest to give away Extreme Midget Wrestling tickets. I mean really, not just midget wrestling, but EXTREME midget wrestling? I don't even want to think what that might involve. And what was the contest you might ask, well you had to guess the age of the Guinness Book of World Record's smallest person, who could walk. This was a man who recently passed away in China. He was 21, a chain smoker and had reached rock star status in his home country. Or, at least according to the D.J.s.
Following this contest, of which there was no shortage of phone-in participants, they went right into their headlines. The headline given the most attention was of a woman who found an unlit cigarette in the bottom of her son's Happy Meal. The D.J. went on to say that MacDonalds had offered the mother a settlement including free meals for the family and money. The mother has refused and is planning a suite against the food chain. Now apparently the D.J.s had a photo of the child, who happens to be a year old. They made a few comments about the mother in choosing to give her 1 year old son a Happy Meal, then went on to describe the child as a "tank". In fact, they spent quite a bit of time discussing the size of this little boy.
Just driving around here in the sticks of Kansas you will notice a lot of things with the word cowboy, spelled with a "K", Kowboy.
Manhattan, Kansas, where I happen to be is the home of Kansas State University, which by all accounts is an excellent school. Their school colors are purple and white, so everywhere you go there are people wearing purple, purple flags, purple dumpsters, purple everything. No ruby slippers, but I'm dead positive that at least one person here owns a pair of purple glitter shoes.
We visited Ft Riley the other day for a childrens' festival and after wards we went to the PX on post. Along the way we noticed a group of what we thought were horses in a field, but turned out to be mules. Apparently Army mules. Who knew they still existed?
While driving through the post, in its more wooded areas, you will see signs that say "Tank Crossing". These signs should be taken seriously. Drivers should slow down or stop and watch for tanks. Tanks always have the right of way. Well, duh!!
Oddly enough I haven't seen a single scarecrow, even though this is big farm country. The radio is filled with ads for crop insurance, farm equipment, and seeds.
So the next time you think about using the pharse, "You're not in Kansas anymore", you might consider if it really fits the situation, because it may more like Kansas then you imagine.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Vacation to Kansas
This is my last day of work before I leave for vacation, and never has a day gone by so slow! It is now 4:02, and I have decided to leave at 4:30, just in time to catch the bus home. Once I arrive at my car, I will then get in it and head back to Portland, and a party for a co-worker who is leaving us at the end of the month. Very sad for us, good for him. I also need to arrange a ride to the airport. Should have gotten that taken care of sooner. Just realized today that I didn’t have a ride. May need to schedule a taxi.
Tomorrow morning I will register for my boarding pass at exactly 10:10, which is 24 hours before I leave. I’ve set the alarm on my Blackberry. What did we do before we had all these little helpful devices? Then I will have a dentist appointment at 11:00, pick up my prescription in the pharmacy afterwards and head out to get a little shopping done. I have to get a presents for my grandchildren, buy travel sized (or at least something smaller than the super economy sized) shampoo and conditioner. Oh yeah, and I have to go purchase a new camera, because mine broke over the weekend. Ugggh!
In the afternoon I will do the last bit of laundry, plant some tomatoes, and have a good bye conversation with the cat and the chickens, my girls. Then I will do my packing, watch Idol, and get some sleep.
When I would fly to Hawaii, it was a five hour flight and all there was to see was water. It was like the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, “Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” or something like that. I was on a plane so I obviously had access to a drink, of many kinds. But, because the flight was 5 hours long and I didn’t want to use the on-flight facilities, I kept my fluid intake to the bear minimum for the 24 hours before my flight landed on the island.
My flight to Kansas is much shorter, but will still be planning my fluid intake to avoid the on-flight facilities. Unlike the flight to Hawaii, there should be plenty to see outside my window, so I don’t have to stay up all night so I can sleep through the flight. Yeah!!
I will fly into the Kansas City airport. This will be my second time. The last time I was 13, and it was my first time to travel by plane. Because my parents didn’t what to have to change planes, they chose a flight that took to Des Moines, Iowa without a plane change, but it stopped at every airport between there and Houston. Kansas City happened to be one, and be the time we make it there, I was really hungry and starting to feel a bit sick. The attendant, for stewardess as we called them then, suggested I get off and grab something from the vending machine and come right back. We had plenty of time for that. So I did.
I found the vending machines just where she said they would be, quickly made my selections, and hot footed it back to the gate. The gate was closed and my blue Branaff was taxing away. I had a melt down. There was shriking and crying and all kinds of goings on. Finally the gate attendant settled me down and pointed to a blue Branaff at the next gate and said, “That’s your plane.” I said, “Oh” I felt like a complete idiot, which I was, and to make matter worse I couldn’t just hope on my plane and avoid all the stares. No, I had to wait for two other plane to clear the terminal before I could reboard my flight. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I’m hoping to comport myself better this time around.
Tomorrow morning I will register for my boarding pass at exactly 10:10, which is 24 hours before I leave. I’ve set the alarm on my Blackberry. What did we do before we had all these little helpful devices? Then I will have a dentist appointment at 11:00, pick up my prescription in the pharmacy afterwards and head out to get a little shopping done. I have to get a presents for my grandchildren, buy travel sized (or at least something smaller than the super economy sized) shampoo and conditioner. Oh yeah, and I have to go purchase a new camera, because mine broke over the weekend. Ugggh!
In the afternoon I will do the last bit of laundry, plant some tomatoes, and have a good bye conversation with the cat and the chickens, my girls. Then I will do my packing, watch Idol, and get some sleep.
When I would fly to Hawaii, it was a five hour flight and all there was to see was water. It was like the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, “Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink.” or something like that. I was on a plane so I obviously had access to a drink, of many kinds. But, because the flight was 5 hours long and I didn’t want to use the on-flight facilities, I kept my fluid intake to the bear minimum for the 24 hours before my flight landed on the island.
My flight to Kansas is much shorter, but will still be planning my fluid intake to avoid the on-flight facilities. Unlike the flight to Hawaii, there should be plenty to see outside my window, so I don’t have to stay up all night so I can sleep through the flight. Yeah!!
I will fly into the Kansas City airport. This will be my second time. The last time I was 13, and it was my first time to travel by plane. Because my parents didn’t what to have to change planes, they chose a flight that took to Des Moines, Iowa without a plane change, but it stopped at every airport between there and Houston. Kansas City happened to be one, and be the time we make it there, I was really hungry and starting to feel a bit sick. The attendant, for stewardess as we called them then, suggested I get off and grab something from the vending machine and come right back. We had plenty of time for that. So I did.
I found the vending machines just where she said they would be, quickly made my selections, and hot footed it back to the gate. The gate was closed and my blue Branaff was taxing away. I had a melt down. There was shriking and crying and all kinds of goings on. Finally the gate attendant settled me down and pointed to a blue Branaff at the next gate and said, “That’s your plane.” I said, “Oh” I felt like a complete idiot, which I was, and to make matter worse I couldn’t just hope on my plane and avoid all the stares. No, I had to wait for two other plane to clear the terminal before I could reboard my flight. It was the longest 5 minutes of my life. I’m hoping to comport myself better this time around.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Weather, day lilies, and the police
Where is the sunny warm weather? I’m starving for decent temps and some nice warm rays I can bath my aching joints in! Not to mention, I have chickens I need to get in a chicken coop. Of course, I need to get the coop finished first, which means I need some decent weather! Wait, I’m dizzy. It feels like I’m running around on a hamster wheel.
I got a nice email for my friend (hi Wendy) to say she had left me some day lilies on my back porch. (Thanks!) I’m hoping I can get them into the ground this evening when I get home, and I’m really hoping I don’t to do it in a down pour! They should look lovely very soon when they bloom.
My cat is also panting to go outside. She has managed to get out a couple of times under the covered patio in back, but that is about as far as she is willing to venture in the rain. Of course if the rain is too hard, that just freaks her out and she has to run back in and hides under the bed. That’s my fearless kitty!
I am currently in a tug of war with my local police department over my volunteer status. After being approved for volunteer training, I have been suddenly denied with no explanation. To say the least I’m shocked and have asked for an explanation, and been told pretty much, -- tough noogies we don’t have to tell you anything. Since I have been background checked for employment and volunteer work in the past with police and schools, I’m quite taken aback by this development, and stunned by the hard line I’m coming up against. I was a crime prevention specialist for Portland for over 6 years for pity sake! I had a key that allowed me access to every building they occupied. I trained officers in various subjects involving community policing, and routinely sat in on mission and daily briefings. Now Vancouver has a problem accepting me, after I’d been approved?!!
My fear is that this has all arisen as the result of my recent resignation from the board of my neighborhood association, which I have not wanted to make a big deal over. One of the board members is a member of this program, and I think that person has, in some way thrown a wrench in this business. It is just a bit too coincidental that my sudden denial came just after my resignation. I can not let this matter go since there is a very good chance that I will need a background check from the police department in the future related to volunteer work or even future employment, and I can’t have an incident showing where I was denied. This means I may have to drag some issues out of the neighborhood closet I really didn’t want to have to drag out. I’m really hoping someone comes to their senses before this has to get really ugly, that would not do certain neighborhood board members, or the police department, any good.
More over, I really believe in the value and effectiveness of community policing. I have often wished that Vancouver had a program like this one. I have been very eager to recommend this program to people up to this point, but now I don’t think I can in good conscience do that anymore, and that really sucks! I will now have to warn people off, for fear they could end up in a similar situation. I hate this! I could just spit!!
I got a nice email for my friend (hi Wendy) to say she had left me some day lilies on my back porch. (Thanks!) I’m hoping I can get them into the ground this evening when I get home, and I’m really hoping I don’t to do it in a down pour! They should look lovely very soon when they bloom.
My cat is also panting to go outside. She has managed to get out a couple of times under the covered patio in back, but that is about as far as she is willing to venture in the rain. Of course if the rain is too hard, that just freaks her out and she has to run back in and hides under the bed. That’s my fearless kitty!
I am currently in a tug of war with my local police department over my volunteer status. After being approved for volunteer training, I have been suddenly denied with no explanation. To say the least I’m shocked and have asked for an explanation, and been told pretty much, -- tough noogies we don’t have to tell you anything. Since I have been background checked for employment and volunteer work in the past with police and schools, I’m quite taken aback by this development, and stunned by the hard line I’m coming up against. I was a crime prevention specialist for Portland for over 6 years for pity sake! I had a key that allowed me access to every building they occupied. I trained officers in various subjects involving community policing, and routinely sat in on mission and daily briefings. Now Vancouver has a problem accepting me, after I’d been approved?!!
My fear is that this has all arisen as the result of my recent resignation from the board of my neighborhood association, which I have not wanted to make a big deal over. One of the board members is a member of this program, and I think that person has, in some way thrown a wrench in this business. It is just a bit too coincidental that my sudden denial came just after my resignation. I can not let this matter go since there is a very good chance that I will need a background check from the police department in the future related to volunteer work or even future employment, and I can’t have an incident showing where I was denied. This means I may have to drag some issues out of the neighborhood closet I really didn’t want to have to drag out. I’m really hoping someone comes to their senses before this has to get really ugly, that would not do certain neighborhood board members, or the police department, any good.
More over, I really believe in the value and effectiveness of community policing. I have often wished that Vancouver had a program like this one. I have been very eager to recommend this program to people up to this point, but now I don’t think I can in good conscience do that anymore, and that really sucks! I will now have to warn people off, for fear they could end up in a similar situation. I hate this! I could just spit!!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Ok, I’m sure everyone is like this, but maybe not. There are things in weird places all over my house. Most of them I’m sure I have left there, others I’m not sure who left them where they are. For instance there is a glass desk top leaning against the wall in my bedroom. I’m sure I put it there thinking it was temporary when I dismantal it for the new desk. I'm sure I meant to move it out to the garage, the rest of the desk is out there. It’s still in my room and has been for at least a year. It has become invisible to me. I’m hoping now that I’ve embarrassed myself by telling all you this, I will finally remember to get it moved. Maybe I even get it, and all the rest of the odd stuff I have into the neighborhood cleanup this year, or onto Craig's List.
Other items end up in odd places for really odd reasons. Like the cracker box sitting on the vanity in my bathroom. – I should point out that my bathroom is so small that calling the counter a vanity, or a counter for that matter, is being really generous – It got there because I was using it to cover the top of a bucket while carrying my young hens. I was putting them in the bathtub. – I know weird! But, it was raining outside and I had to clean the cage. Where else could I put them? – I put the box there while unloading the chickens and forgot it. It’s been there for two days now.
I’m a little concerned that I will continue to forget it, and then everyone coming into my house and going to the bathroom will think I eat crackers in there. How embarressing would that be?
By the way, who is Craig, and how did he get a list? I'm just wondering.
Other items end up in odd places for really odd reasons. Like the cracker box sitting on the vanity in my bathroom. – I should point out that my bathroom is so small that calling the counter a vanity, or a counter for that matter, is being really generous – It got there because I was using it to cover the top of a bucket while carrying my young hens. I was putting them in the bathtub. – I know weird! But, it was raining outside and I had to clean the cage. Where else could I put them? – I put the box there while unloading the chickens and forgot it. It’s been there for two days now.
I’m a little concerned that I will continue to forget it, and then everyone coming into my house and going to the bathroom will think I eat crackers in there. How embarressing would that be?
By the way, who is Craig, and how did he get a list? I'm just wondering.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Sunny days, chicks, cats and dogs
Yesterday was a BEAUTIFUL day!! In fact, one of the principals in our state, Washington, gave all the kids a day off as a Sun Day. They have had no snow days this year, so he thought it was only fair that the kids and staff get a day to celebrate a day without rain and with a lot of sunshine. With the announcement he included a picture of himself on a motorcycle with sun glasses and thumbs up. I love that story!
Yesterday I was unlucky in having to be at work, but lucky in that I was out doing site visits so I got to enjoy the day at least a little. When I got home I gather up my little chicken (which are getting bigger every day!) and took them out to the temporary run while I cleaned out their cage. By the end of the process, I was sunburned and my little girls were in chicky heaven pecking and scratching away outside.
There is something elementally calming about watching chickens with their tails in the air scratching the grounds and pecking our nummy morsels. Not to mention the Keystone Cops comedy of antics when one of them finds an especially juicy worm and the others give chase. Inevitably the worm will be dropped and they will all scramble for it, ending in another chase.
They are getting pretty big now, and have just about lost all their baby chick fuzz. They look like small, skinny versions of adult hens at the moment. This is their awkward stage, also known as the ugly stage, or adolescence. They are getting braver and starting to stretch their wings. In fact, they are trying to fly. They all excited and will actually get off the ground, but I think when their feet leave the ground they get a little freaked, because they will suddenly freeze, drop and then look around like they’re asking, “What hell was that?”
My cat is both fascinated and confounded by them. Bird watching has been a longtime preoccupation of hers. She loves to site and watch them through the window, and will track them if she is outside. Up until now she has never really gotten close to any. She loves laying on top of their cage and just watching them. She can do it for hours. She seems totally confused by them.
Yesterday while the girls were in their temporary coop outside, she found a loose place in the fencing and stuck her head in, then freaked out when the girls ran over to check her out. Poor Hinata, she doesn’t have a brave bone anywhere in her little body. I’m afraid she’s going to have to give up her cat card any day now.
Last weekend when I had the girls out in there temporary coop, my sister’s big ole red dog, Rusty, managed to find a way in. So, here is this huge dog in a small coop, with six small chickens and anywhere else this would there would be some serious feathers flying, and really fresh doggy treat. Not for our Rusty! He was too busy trying to convince the girls that he is their new best friend, as they whines to them and licks them. The girls were unimpressed and unafraid. They just kept on with the important work of being a chicken, scratching and pecking.
It’s always something!
Yesterday I was unlucky in having to be at work, but lucky in that I was out doing site visits so I got to enjoy the day at least a little. When I got home I gather up my little chicken (which are getting bigger every day!) and took them out to the temporary run while I cleaned out their cage. By the end of the process, I was sunburned and my little girls were in chicky heaven pecking and scratching away outside.
There is something elementally calming about watching chickens with their tails in the air scratching the grounds and pecking our nummy morsels. Not to mention the Keystone Cops comedy of antics when one of them finds an especially juicy worm and the others give chase. Inevitably the worm will be dropped and they will all scramble for it, ending in another chase.
They are getting pretty big now, and have just about lost all their baby chick fuzz. They look like small, skinny versions of adult hens at the moment. This is their awkward stage, also known as the ugly stage, or adolescence. They are getting braver and starting to stretch their wings. In fact, they are trying to fly. They all excited and will actually get off the ground, but I think when their feet leave the ground they get a little freaked, because they will suddenly freeze, drop and then look around like they’re asking, “What hell was that?”
My cat is both fascinated and confounded by them. Bird watching has been a longtime preoccupation of hers. She loves to site and watch them through the window, and will track them if she is outside. Up until now she has never really gotten close to any. She loves laying on top of their cage and just watching them. She can do it for hours. She seems totally confused by them.
Yesterday while the girls were in their temporary coop outside, she found a loose place in the fencing and stuck her head in, then freaked out when the girls ran over to check her out. Poor Hinata, she doesn’t have a brave bone anywhere in her little body. I’m afraid she’s going to have to give up her cat card any day now.
Last weekend when I had the girls out in there temporary coop, my sister’s big ole red dog, Rusty, managed to find a way in. So, here is this huge dog in a small coop, with six small chickens and anywhere else this would there would be some serious feathers flying, and really fresh doggy treat. Not for our Rusty! He was too busy trying to convince the girls that he is their new best friend, as they whines to them and licks them. The girls were unimpressed and unafraid. They just kept on with the important work of being a chicken, scratching and pecking.
It’s always something!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Language, what?
“For crying in the sink!” and “Good greifinhimmer!” These are just a couple of fun sayings by my supervisor, Megan. Add to this the fact that when she laughs it sounds like someone is tickling her. She has a silly sense of humeor and is a real hoot!
We all say things at times that are so uniquely us, or at least out of place to others. For instance Megan is from upstate New York and for all I know these could be very common saying there, but here not so much. I find myself saying, “Holy molie canoli!” Not real sure where this came from, since it doesn’t seem common here and wasn’t common when I lived in Texas. Not to mention that this phrase mixes Hispanic and Italian culinary arts. It’s just crazy!
Language is such a funny thing, not to mention the English language in particular. English spelling is just flat out insane. A millions rules and a million exceptions to them all! It’s no wonder I can’t spell worth anything. But, the language does give you room to express yourself. I remember my grandmother describing her longing for something as a hunger, like being hungry for spring. That twist, gave her longing more intensity and suggest an actual physical response.
Here in the Pacific Northwest you will see signs in construction zones that say, “Caution: Abrupt edge”. I had not seen this phrasing before moving here, and it struck me funny the first time I saw it because it seemed for formal and proper. I also noticed signs that said, “Ahead Rec Veh Park”. I remember wondering what kind of organization Rec Veh was that they could sponsor so many parks. I mentioned this to a friend, who laughed and told me Rec Veh was short for recreational vehicles. Well, duh, it seems crazy obvious once I was told, but you know a couple of periods would have been good clues that these were abbreviations!
We all say things at times that are so uniquely us, or at least out of place to others. For instance Megan is from upstate New York and for all I know these could be very common saying there, but here not so much. I find myself saying, “Holy molie canoli!” Not real sure where this came from, since it doesn’t seem common here and wasn’t common when I lived in Texas. Not to mention that this phrase mixes Hispanic and Italian culinary arts. It’s just crazy!
Language is such a funny thing, not to mention the English language in particular. English spelling is just flat out insane. A millions rules and a million exceptions to them all! It’s no wonder I can’t spell worth anything. But, the language does give you room to express yourself. I remember my grandmother describing her longing for something as a hunger, like being hungry for spring. That twist, gave her longing more intensity and suggest an actual physical response.
Here in the Pacific Northwest you will see signs in construction zones that say, “Caution: Abrupt edge”. I had not seen this phrasing before moving here, and it struck me funny the first time I saw it because it seemed for formal and proper. I also noticed signs that said, “Ahead Rec Veh Park”. I remember wondering what kind of organization Rec Veh was that they could sponsor so many parks. I mentioned this to a friend, who laughed and told me Rec Veh was short for recreational vehicles. Well, duh, it seems crazy obvious once I was told, but you know a couple of periods would have been good clues that these were abbreviations!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Chicks in the house
For years I have daydreamed about chickens and have periodically thought how nice it would be to have a little flock of my own. I was unprepared to commit to a rural life in order to have them, so it was just a nice, pleasant fantasy that went nowhere.
A couple of years ago, for about 8 months, I worked as a code compliance inspector for the city. My job was to investigate complaints, and to inspect home businesses for their licenses. During this time I learned that you can have chickens in the city, but no roosters. In fact, I got to see quite a few really nice backyard chicken set-ups during my inspection of home businesses. I also got to ask some questions about how it worked. I learned from chicken complaint calls that neighbors really hate it when you have a rooster, or when you don’t keep the coop cleaned out. There are literally hundreds of households in Portland, that keep chickens, only a very few complaints are made each year regarding them.
So time goes by and I’m still thinking about chickens. This year, is my year of the chicken. Saturday Danna, Tiger and I went and picked out our chicks. This brought back memories of my grandfather taking to us the feed store, and seeing the baby chicks. Back then, at Easter, they would dye the chicks in a rainbow of colors. Not so much any more.
We ended up taking home six, all different breeds. They’re so cute! Currently they are living in a box in my house, waiting to grow big enough to be moved outside to a new home, as yet unconstructed. They will be a very pretty flock when they grow up.
Some things I’ve learned so far: 1.) Chicks eat and drink a lot! I’ve filled the waterer and feeder several times in just 48 hours, especially the waterer. 2.) They’re little poop machines. 3.) They live to scratch. In fact, part of the reason I’ve filled the waterer so many times is that they keep scratching the bedding into the water dish.
The heat lamp has been the biggest challenge. Unfailingly it always needs to be at some point in mid-air where you just can’t get it. At one point we have a bar stool turned upside down, with a foot stool balanced on the bar stool’s feet, and a dowel rod counterbalanced in a hole of the footstool, with the heat lamp hanging from the dowel rod. Oh yeah, and all this was on top of a counter. Even after all this engineering, I’m not it’s in the right place, but hey they’re still alive!
The next step is to build the coop. Stay tuned for that! LOL
A couple of years ago, for about 8 months, I worked as a code compliance inspector for the city. My job was to investigate complaints, and to inspect home businesses for their licenses. During this time I learned that you can have chickens in the city, but no roosters. In fact, I got to see quite a few really nice backyard chicken set-ups during my inspection of home businesses. I also got to ask some questions about how it worked. I learned from chicken complaint calls that neighbors really hate it when you have a rooster, or when you don’t keep the coop cleaned out. There are literally hundreds of households in Portland, that keep chickens, only a very few complaints are made each year regarding them.
So time goes by and I’m still thinking about chickens. This year, is my year of the chicken. Saturday Danna, Tiger and I went and picked out our chicks. This brought back memories of my grandfather taking to us the feed store, and seeing the baby chicks. Back then, at Easter, they would dye the chicks in a rainbow of colors. Not so much any more.
We ended up taking home six, all different breeds. They’re so cute! Currently they are living in a box in my house, waiting to grow big enough to be moved outside to a new home, as yet unconstructed. They will be a very pretty flock when they grow up.
Some things I’ve learned so far: 1.) Chicks eat and drink a lot! I’ve filled the waterer and feeder several times in just 48 hours, especially the waterer. 2.) They’re little poop machines. 3.) They live to scratch. In fact, part of the reason I’ve filled the waterer so many times is that they keep scratching the bedding into the water dish.
The heat lamp has been the biggest challenge. Unfailingly it always needs to be at some point in mid-air where you just can’t get it. At one point we have a bar stool turned upside down, with a foot stool balanced on the bar stool’s feet, and a dowel rod counterbalanced in a hole of the footstool, with the heat lamp hanging from the dowel rod. Oh yeah, and all this was on top of a counter. Even after all this engineering, I’m not it’s in the right place, but hey they’re still alive!
The next step is to build the coop. Stay tuned for that! LOL
2010 Winter Olympics and my observations
Loved the projections during the opening and closing programs!! The closing was awesome. You’ve got to love a country with a sense of humor!! Based on Russia’s whining in the news I’m thinking that the next winter Olympics will not be as light hearted, and what a shame.
I have a new favorite sport, snowboard cross. It is absolutely the most exciting thing to watch!! Of course, I would hate to be out on the track watching or participating in it. You know how I feel about snow and ice, it should be enjoyed through glass. Either a window or the TV screen.
Speaking of the TV, I found myself doing a lot of screaming at the TV during the coverage. I kept screaming, “Shut up Bob!!!!” Bob Costas, is there any more annoying person in the world? Probably, but your uncle Fred isn’t on TV, usually. His need to fill every moment with his own voice, there has to be some kind of clinical therapy for that. If not, I think a good roll of Duct Tape would be a good investment by the network. I mean really, if they just said something in English and are now saying it in French, does Bob need to tell us what is being said? SHUT UP!!
Curling, you have to love a sport where men know how to use brooms. I want to marry a curler!! I think we need to invent a competitive sport involving toilet scrubbing!!
Skiing: I mean really how many times can you watch a bunch of people slide down a mountain on skinny sticks? There is the slalom, the giant slalom, the super G, the normal hill, the big hill, the combined, the individuals and the team competitions, and on and on.
Is it just me, or has all the artistry been sucked out of figure skating? I haven’t watched it in a long time, probably since the last Olympics, but the routines seemed so bland. Only a few exhibited any kind of the musicality. I will say this, Frank Carrol’s skaters are easy to pick out, because their programs hold true to the art as well as the athletic intent of the sport.
OK, I admit I really only know two things about hockey: 1) you advance the puck by hitting it with a stick while in skates on ice, 2) when the puck goes into the net of the opposing team, you score one point. With this as my knowledge base, It’s understandable that there are some things about the game that totally confuse me, when compared my knowledge of other sports. Like, how can you be out-of-bounds? There is a wall around the rink! And if you do get out-of-bounds who would care, because you’re now out of play? And what in the hell is high sticking? Is that like a high five but using your sticks? Why would that be a penalty? And why is it called Hockey?
I have a new favorite sport, snowboard cross. It is absolutely the most exciting thing to watch!! Of course, I would hate to be out on the track watching or participating in it. You know how I feel about snow and ice, it should be enjoyed through glass. Either a window or the TV screen.
Speaking of the TV, I found myself doing a lot of screaming at the TV during the coverage. I kept screaming, “Shut up Bob!!!!” Bob Costas, is there any more annoying person in the world? Probably, but your uncle Fred isn’t on TV, usually. His need to fill every moment with his own voice, there has to be some kind of clinical therapy for that. If not, I think a good roll of Duct Tape would be a good investment by the network. I mean really, if they just said something in English and are now saying it in French, does Bob need to tell us what is being said? SHUT UP!!
Curling, you have to love a sport where men know how to use brooms. I want to marry a curler!! I think we need to invent a competitive sport involving toilet scrubbing!!
Skiing: I mean really how many times can you watch a bunch of people slide down a mountain on skinny sticks? There is the slalom, the giant slalom, the super G, the normal hill, the big hill, the combined, the individuals and the team competitions, and on and on.
Is it just me, or has all the artistry been sucked out of figure skating? I haven’t watched it in a long time, probably since the last Olympics, but the routines seemed so bland. Only a few exhibited any kind of the musicality. I will say this, Frank Carrol’s skaters are easy to pick out, because their programs hold true to the art as well as the athletic intent of the sport.
OK, I admit I really only know two things about hockey: 1) you advance the puck by hitting it with a stick while in skates on ice, 2) when the puck goes into the net of the opposing team, you score one point. With this as my knowledge base, It’s understandable that there are some things about the game that totally confuse me, when compared my knowledge of other sports. Like, how can you be out-of-bounds? There is a wall around the rink! And if you do get out-of-bounds who would care, because you’re now out of play? And what in the hell is high sticking? Is that like a high five but using your sticks? Why would that be a penalty? And why is it called Hockey?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
How credible are we?
Today on NPR the questions was “Should you be penalize for the actions of your family?” OK, I was pretty quick with a “Hell no!” Then the example they used was of the New York Times editor in Jerusalem, whose son has volunteered for the Israeli Army. The question became, can he be objective in his reporting?
Well to begin with I thought the first question was totally miss leading, and implied that a family member had done something egregious where someone needed to be penalized, and I didn’t think that was a fair representation of this situation.
That said, I found myself pulled in a number of ways by this dilemma. My first knee jerk reaction was he should be reassigned given the magnitude of hostilities between Israeli and its Arab neighbors, but then I had to take a step back. As the various experts banged away at the issues I could see the points they all were making, no matter what their viewpoint was.
I’m still not sure exactly how I feel about this, but I did start to put myself in the place of this father and son. In a way I’ve been there. I have certainly experienced the worried and pain of a parent whose child is in the military, and has been put in harm’s way. Many people have assumed that they knew how I would feel on a subject based on the fact that I have children in the military, one severely wounded in battle, or as a member of Soldiers’ Angels. Rarely have they been completely correct in their assumptions.
All of us are impacted by the lives we choose to live, the random acts that occur in that life, and by choices others make whether they are close to us or not. This is exactly why none of us can truly be objective. We can only speak from the accumulation of our experiences. The question isn’t if he can be objective, it is how will this situation, added to all his other life experiences effect how he interprets what he is reporting on? I’m reminded of the joke about three blind guys, each standing a different place around an elephant describing what they feel with their hands, leads them to believe there are three different animals there with them. We are all handicapped and empowered by our past and present when interpreting an experience. Does this make our reporting more or less valuable or credible?
Well to begin with I thought the first question was totally miss leading, and implied that a family member had done something egregious where someone needed to be penalized, and I didn’t think that was a fair representation of this situation.
That said, I found myself pulled in a number of ways by this dilemma. My first knee jerk reaction was he should be reassigned given the magnitude of hostilities between Israeli and its Arab neighbors, but then I had to take a step back. As the various experts banged away at the issues I could see the points they all were making, no matter what their viewpoint was.
I’m still not sure exactly how I feel about this, but I did start to put myself in the place of this father and son. In a way I’ve been there. I have certainly experienced the worried and pain of a parent whose child is in the military, and has been put in harm’s way. Many people have assumed that they knew how I would feel on a subject based on the fact that I have children in the military, one severely wounded in battle, or as a member of Soldiers’ Angels. Rarely have they been completely correct in their assumptions.
All of us are impacted by the lives we choose to live, the random acts that occur in that life, and by choices others make whether they are close to us or not. This is exactly why none of us can truly be objective. We can only speak from the accumulation of our experiences. The question isn’t if he can be objective, it is how will this situation, added to all his other life experiences effect how he interprets what he is reporting on? I’m reminded of the joke about three blind guys, each standing a different place around an elephant describing what they feel with their hands, leads them to believe there are three different animals there with them. We are all handicapped and empowered by our past and present when interpreting an experience. Does this make our reporting more or less valuable or credible?
Monday, February 8, 2010
Men baking
You have to love a man that can bake!! One of my co-workers (male) brings in the most wonderful baked goods from time to time. Today it was an apple coffee cake, which was beautiful with thin wedges of apples baked ringing the top. Wonderful!!!
Dan, that’s his name, does this about 3 times a year, and it’s always something different. I’m not sure how often he actually bakes, but boy is he good. Every once in a while another one of the guys on the floor will bring in something they have cooked, and most of it is really good, but Dan is the only guy that brings in baked goods.
Now I’m wondering why there aren’t more guys who bake. It seems to me that of all the cooking types, baking would be most up their alley. Appealing to their love of precession is the exactitude of measurement and the endless debates on weather ingredients should be at room temp or kept cold in the frig. The endless experimentation with ingredients, and the quest to improve a recipe. And how about the power tools? The food processors, mixers, choppers, peelers, timers? Then there are all those nifty hand tools too: whisks, spatulas, and spoons, presses, nut crackers (OK maybe there’s a clue there). There are also a 1001 kinds of pans, some of with come apart and some are spring loaded. Not to mention that at the end of the process there is something to eat. It just seems to me that almost every guy would be into baking.
Of course they’re into BBQing, And let’s face it, they are ALL drawn to fire but, the tools are so limiting and basic. Maybe the next evolution will be man learning to bake on his BBQ pit?
Dan, that’s his name, does this about 3 times a year, and it’s always something different. I’m not sure how often he actually bakes, but boy is he good. Every once in a while another one of the guys on the floor will bring in something they have cooked, and most of it is really good, but Dan is the only guy that brings in baked goods.
Now I’m wondering why there aren’t more guys who bake. It seems to me that of all the cooking types, baking would be most up their alley. Appealing to their love of precession is the exactitude of measurement and the endless debates on weather ingredients should be at room temp or kept cold in the frig. The endless experimentation with ingredients, and the quest to improve a recipe. And how about the power tools? The food processors, mixers, choppers, peelers, timers? Then there are all those nifty hand tools too: whisks, spatulas, and spoons, presses, nut crackers (OK maybe there’s a clue there). There are also a 1001 kinds of pans, some of with come apart and some are spring loaded. Not to mention that at the end of the process there is something to eat. It just seems to me that almost every guy would be into baking.
Of course they’re into BBQing, And let’s face it, they are ALL drawn to fire but, the tools are so limiting and basic. Maybe the next evolution will be man learning to bake on his BBQ pit?
Friday, February 5, 2010
Neighborhood meetings, characters and dogs in the park
Last night was our monthly neighborhood association meeting. As is usual it was a rather mixed bag. We heard from our city liaison about a couple of trainings coming up for citizens. Our neighborhood police officer reported on cuts in the department and how some duties are now being covered by volunteers. We heard an update on the start of construction of a new development and we had a couple of presentation, one on elder services, and the other on airport noise.
I know, it’s not exactly stuff to keep you on the edge of your seat, but it was all useful information.
Our neighborhood is lucky in that we usually have pretty good attendance, about 20-30 people on average. Most neighborhoods get a dozen on a good night. Our groups has a lot or regulars, and then there are always a few odds ones thrown in.
Where our meetings get interesting, at least if you’re any kind of student of human behavior, is when the more odd, and off the beaten track individuals start to chime in. We have the guy that sits in the back, and has lived here all his life. He will decided that a particular point has interest for him. This point is ALWAYS some very small piece of the topic being discussed, it is ALWAYS something that we have very little or no control over, and he ALWAYS wants to discuss it in detail and have someone fix it. Never fails!
We also have “The Grandmas” 3 older ladies (there used to be 4 but passed a couple of years ago) who always come together, and sit together in the front row. They almost never bring any issues, or have opinions on issues, but when they do you had better listen. They attend every function in the neighborhood, and can be relied on to volunteer for committees.
We also have the guy who has to be the “character”, the one with a story for every occasion, has experienced almost everything. In our case this person has lived a pretty incredible life and is totally devoted to our neighborhood. He also happens to be our president and is the one who conducts our meetings. Being a “character” and the president can lead to some really long meetings with a lot of stories, most of which we have heard before. I should also mention that tact is not his strongest suit.
So last night we endured a mind numbing long presentation from the elders services group, we were their first neighborhood presentation. We also had some fireworks between the president and the sergeant-at-arms over the railroad and their use of horns, resulting in raised voices and the possible resignation of the sergeant-at-arm, who also something of a “character.”
After all that we got down to new business and community concerns. The big issues related to dogs in the parks. (We have two neighborhood parks.) To be specific what dogs leave behind in the park that their masters are not picking up. We have installed doggie bag dispensers recently to address this issue, but apparently they are not being used.
The other issue was dogs off leash. And, here is were the meeting became truly interesting. One of the neighbors (A) said that her neighbor (B) routinely brings her dog to the park off-leash. Neighbor (A) gently reminded neighbor (B) that all dogs need to be on a leash. Neighbor (B) responded that her dog did not have to be on a leash because her doctor has written a note for the dog. ---- I’m telling you, you can’t make this stuff up!!----- I turned and put the questions to our neighborhood officer who hadn’t heard the story because he was talking to another neighbor. I said, “Drue, is it true that a person is exempt from the leash law if they have a doctor’s note?” He looked at me as if to say, is this a trick question. Then he looked around like maybe he was being punked or on Candid Camera. I’m sure it’s one of the stranger questions he’s gotten. For the record, the answer is NO.
I know, it’s not exactly stuff to keep you on the edge of your seat, but it was all useful information.
Our neighborhood is lucky in that we usually have pretty good attendance, about 20-30 people on average. Most neighborhoods get a dozen on a good night. Our groups has a lot or regulars, and then there are always a few odds ones thrown in.
Where our meetings get interesting, at least if you’re any kind of student of human behavior, is when the more odd, and off the beaten track individuals start to chime in. We have the guy that sits in the back, and has lived here all his life. He will decided that a particular point has interest for him. This point is ALWAYS some very small piece of the topic being discussed, it is ALWAYS something that we have very little or no control over, and he ALWAYS wants to discuss it in detail and have someone fix it. Never fails!
We also have “The Grandmas” 3 older ladies (there used to be 4 but passed a couple of years ago) who always come together, and sit together in the front row. They almost never bring any issues, or have opinions on issues, but when they do you had better listen. They attend every function in the neighborhood, and can be relied on to volunteer for committees.
We also have the guy who has to be the “character”, the one with a story for every occasion, has experienced almost everything. In our case this person has lived a pretty incredible life and is totally devoted to our neighborhood. He also happens to be our president and is the one who conducts our meetings. Being a “character” and the president can lead to some really long meetings with a lot of stories, most of which we have heard before. I should also mention that tact is not his strongest suit.
So last night we endured a mind numbing long presentation from the elders services group, we were their first neighborhood presentation. We also had some fireworks between the president and the sergeant-at-arms over the railroad and their use of horns, resulting in raised voices and the possible resignation of the sergeant-at-arm, who also something of a “character.”
After all that we got down to new business and community concerns. The big issues related to dogs in the parks. (We have two neighborhood parks.) To be specific what dogs leave behind in the park that their masters are not picking up. We have installed doggie bag dispensers recently to address this issue, but apparently they are not being used.
The other issue was dogs off leash. And, here is were the meeting became truly interesting. One of the neighbors (A) said that her neighbor (B) routinely brings her dog to the park off-leash. Neighbor (A) gently reminded neighbor (B) that all dogs need to be on a leash. Neighbor (B) responded that her dog did not have to be on a leash because her doctor has written a note for the dog. ---- I’m telling you, you can’t make this stuff up!!----- I turned and put the questions to our neighborhood officer who hadn’t heard the story because he was talking to another neighbor. I said, “Drue, is it true that a person is exempt from the leash law if they have a doctor’s note?” He looked at me as if to say, is this a trick question. Then he looked around like maybe he was being punked or on Candid Camera. I’m sure it’s one of the stranger questions he’s gotten. For the record, the answer is NO.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Soldiers, care packages and "Free Mail"
I adopted a new soldier several months ago. I don’t know anything about him since I haven’t had any communication from him yet. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to not communicate, or to only communicate a few times, so I’m not really worried about it. It is a strange kind of thing to write to someone you know almost nothing about. Basically I know that this soldier is male, his name, rank (if he hasn’t been promoted), his mailing address and that he is in the Army, deployed somewhere in Iraq.
This is precious little information. Today I started to order him a t-shit and realized I don’t know his size. I also don’t know what kind of snacks he likes, if he has any allergies, is a health food nut, the kind of work he does, or if he is in southern Iraq or northern Iraq (the temps and weather conditions can really vary). Does he like country music or rap music? Is he 6’5” or 5’5”? Does he read westerns or sci-fi? Is he craving hot and spicy chips, or a moon pie? Does he need a set of sheets, or a sand scarf? Does he have access to a micro wave, or a freezer? These are all very helpful things to know when you are putting together a care package.
When organizing a care package there are some things you know are always welcome, like a brand new pair of socks, or something silly that will make them laugh. Over the years I have mailed blankets, pillows, books, movies, toys, games, puzzles, flash lights, bungee cords, duct tape, funnels, coloring books, crayons, markers, pens, paper, and even a set of horse shoes. I’ve also sent a lot of food and snacks: canned meat and soups, homemade cookies, cakes, soups, pickles and breads, tons of chips and candies, and mountains of jerky and gum.
I’ve also sent themed boxes for various holidays and other occasions, as well as the run of the mill boxes. I start with a military flat rate box and then stuffed to the gills with whatever I think a soldier might need or enjoy. I also try to include enough that they can share with buddies. The key to cramming the maximum amount into a care package is to take most things out of their original packaging. You also need to put liquid or goopy items like shampoo into zip lock bag just in case they burst open. I really like the vacuum sealed bags for large bulky items like blankets, sheets, and pillows. I can actually get all that into one box and still include bedtime story book.
As a Soldiers’ Angel member we always want to know how much a box weighs. My personal best is 17 lbs. Any angel you talk to can tell you their best.
I also like to decorate the boxes I send. We started doing this when my brothers were in the Navy. We wanted them to know how much we missed them. We also wanted them to be able to pick out their boxes right away. My youngest brother says he used to grab a forklift, put his box on the forks, then raise them all the way up and drive around showing his boxes off. He said was always became really popular at about that time. LOL
Building a box is really an involved activity. If you’re like me you have the post office deliver 25-50 flat rate boxes, with custom forms, to your house at a time so you don’t have to rely on the local post office having them. So, first you have to get all the stuff together. This could require you to do some shopping, cooking, knitting, sewing, or whatever. You will need to clean off your kitchen table to have room for everything, stack it all up on one end of the table. At the other end you will need to decorate, address and tape your box up. Then comes the packing, you need to distribute the weight, also try to cushion fragile items. Socks are great for this! Save really small and flat items for the last. Use the small items like gum and individually wrapped candies, lip balm, band-aids, to fill the gaps, and then lay the flat things like a letter, card, or magazine on the top. Then you have to tape it closed and start on the custom form. Of course if you are me, you will have to open the box at least twice to squeeze in something you forgot. Also if you are like me you will likely mess up the customs from on the very list thing and have to start all over again. They are such a pain!!!
Once all this is done you get to carry it down to the post office for mailing. This can be a hassle but I go to my local Hallmark shop, where there is a post office in the back. After I get through with my mailing I like to look around and I usually find something to put in the next box.
After all this work, there will come a day when you check your mailbox and see the thing that is most prized by all Soldiers Angels, a letter with “Free Mail” written where the stamp should be. This letter has been mailed from a combat zone. You are so excited you can’t wait to get to the house to read it, you tear it open on the spot and start to read what your soldier has written to you. You read it at least three times before you tack it your bulletin board with all your other Free Mail, then you get online and tell all your Angel friends that you just received Free Mail!!
NOTE: To learn more about adopting a deployed soldier visit www.soldiersangels.org
This is precious little information. Today I started to order him a t-shit and realized I don’t know his size. I also don’t know what kind of snacks he likes, if he has any allergies, is a health food nut, the kind of work he does, or if he is in southern Iraq or northern Iraq (the temps and weather conditions can really vary). Does he like country music or rap music? Is he 6’5” or 5’5”? Does he read westerns or sci-fi? Is he craving hot and spicy chips, or a moon pie? Does he need a set of sheets, or a sand scarf? Does he have access to a micro wave, or a freezer? These are all very helpful things to know when you are putting together a care package.
When organizing a care package there are some things you know are always welcome, like a brand new pair of socks, or something silly that will make them laugh. Over the years I have mailed blankets, pillows, books, movies, toys, games, puzzles, flash lights, bungee cords, duct tape, funnels, coloring books, crayons, markers, pens, paper, and even a set of horse shoes. I’ve also sent a lot of food and snacks: canned meat and soups, homemade cookies, cakes, soups, pickles and breads, tons of chips and candies, and mountains of jerky and gum.
I’ve also sent themed boxes for various holidays and other occasions, as well as the run of the mill boxes. I start with a military flat rate box and then stuffed to the gills with whatever I think a soldier might need or enjoy. I also try to include enough that they can share with buddies. The key to cramming the maximum amount into a care package is to take most things out of their original packaging. You also need to put liquid or goopy items like shampoo into zip lock bag just in case they burst open. I really like the vacuum sealed bags for large bulky items like blankets, sheets, and pillows. I can actually get all that into one box and still include bedtime story book.
As a Soldiers’ Angel member we always want to know how much a box weighs. My personal best is 17 lbs. Any angel you talk to can tell you their best.
I also like to decorate the boxes I send. We started doing this when my brothers were in the Navy. We wanted them to know how much we missed them. We also wanted them to be able to pick out their boxes right away. My youngest brother says he used to grab a forklift, put his box on the forks, then raise them all the way up and drive around showing his boxes off. He said was always became really popular at about that time. LOL
Building a box is really an involved activity. If you’re like me you have the post office deliver 25-50 flat rate boxes, with custom forms, to your house at a time so you don’t have to rely on the local post office having them. So, first you have to get all the stuff together. This could require you to do some shopping, cooking, knitting, sewing, or whatever. You will need to clean off your kitchen table to have room for everything, stack it all up on one end of the table. At the other end you will need to decorate, address and tape your box up. Then comes the packing, you need to distribute the weight, also try to cushion fragile items. Socks are great for this! Save really small and flat items for the last. Use the small items like gum and individually wrapped candies, lip balm, band-aids, to fill the gaps, and then lay the flat things like a letter, card, or magazine on the top. Then you have to tape it closed and start on the custom form. Of course if you are me, you will have to open the box at least twice to squeeze in something you forgot. Also if you are like me you will likely mess up the customs from on the very list thing and have to start all over again. They are such a pain!!!
Once all this is done you get to carry it down to the post office for mailing. This can be a hassle but I go to my local Hallmark shop, where there is a post office in the back. After I get through with my mailing I like to look around and I usually find something to put in the next box.
After all this work, there will come a day when you check your mailbox and see the thing that is most prized by all Soldiers Angels, a letter with “Free Mail” written where the stamp should be. This letter has been mailed from a combat zone. You are so excited you can’t wait to get to the house to read it, you tear it open on the spot and start to read what your soldier has written to you. You read it at least three times before you tack it your bulletin board with all your other Free Mail, then you get online and tell all your Angel friends that you just received Free Mail!!
NOTE: To learn more about adopting a deployed soldier visit www.soldiersangels.org
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Gardening
I have been starting seeds for my vegetable garden. This is only my second year to have a garden so I’m still in the learning stages. Last year we started plants from seed too, but we just started everything at the same time and planted it all in the garden at the same time. Learned a few things from that!! So this year I have been visiting websites, using catalogs from local seed companies, and reading books and pamphlets on gardening. A lot of it just confuses me but I did find this awesome planting chart that tells you how far apart to plants things, what seeds to start inside, and which to plant directly into the garden. It also tells you when to plant, how log before you can start to harvest, and tons of other info that I don’t really know how I’ll use just yet.
So, for the last two evening, as I watch TV, I’ve been starting seeds in trays. This is the time to start eggplant, peppers and tomatoes. I have everything set up on the coffee table, I have 7 trays with 72 starter pellets in each, a knife to open the seed packets, and a pair of tweezers for placing exactly 2 seeds into each little starter glob of dirt. Oh yeah, I also have a table lamp set up because I need more light to see what the hell I’m doing. Those seeds are wicked small. All those years of playing Operation as a child have finally paid off!
What I realized is that even though it seems like they don’t put very many seeds in a packet, they really do. On average I’ve started about 36 of each and that is using only about half of the seeds in a packet. So, I’m going to have more plants than I will have room in my garden for, and I still have all these seeds left over with not dirt for them. Nature is pretty incredible when you think about how many seeds a single plant can produce, it’s a wonder we aren’t overtaken by plants every day. I still hate to waste the seeds I didn’t use, so I’m saving them and keeping them with their envelopes and I will pass them on to the neighborhood school which has a garden where the kids learn to become gardeners. As for the extra plants I grow, I will share them with my neighbors, or maybe I’ll get a booth at the local farmers market and sell them. I would be like a real farmer! LOL
Some of the things I really like about gardening are:
-- I like getting out and moving around, which I really need to do that
-- I get a kick out of watching the plants grows
-- I feel completely accomplished when I pick and use what I’ve grown
-- I love sharing the harvest with my family, friends and neighbors
-- I feel a sense of connection with my ancestors who were farmers
-- I like that I know exactly how and where my food was grown
-- I enjoy when the kids come by and they get to pick something, they get so excited
-- I like watching my cat pretend to be a jungle cat as she slinks through the plants
-- I enjoy sitting on the patio and listening to the wind rustle the corn as the sun sets
So, for the last two evening, as I watch TV, I’ve been starting seeds in trays. This is the time to start eggplant, peppers and tomatoes. I have everything set up on the coffee table, I have 7 trays with 72 starter pellets in each, a knife to open the seed packets, and a pair of tweezers for placing exactly 2 seeds into each little starter glob of dirt. Oh yeah, I also have a table lamp set up because I need more light to see what the hell I’m doing. Those seeds are wicked small. All those years of playing Operation as a child have finally paid off!
What I realized is that even though it seems like they don’t put very many seeds in a packet, they really do. On average I’ve started about 36 of each and that is using only about half of the seeds in a packet. So, I’m going to have more plants than I will have room in my garden for, and I still have all these seeds left over with not dirt for them. Nature is pretty incredible when you think about how many seeds a single plant can produce, it’s a wonder we aren’t overtaken by plants every day. I still hate to waste the seeds I didn’t use, so I’m saving them and keeping them with their envelopes and I will pass them on to the neighborhood school which has a garden where the kids learn to become gardeners. As for the extra plants I grow, I will share them with my neighbors, or maybe I’ll get a booth at the local farmers market and sell them. I would be like a real farmer! LOL
Some of the things I really like about gardening are:
-- I like getting out and moving around, which I really need to do that
-- I get a kick out of watching the plants grows
-- I feel completely accomplished when I pick and use what I’ve grown
-- I love sharing the harvest with my family, friends and neighbors
-- I feel a sense of connection with my ancestors who were farmers
-- I like that I know exactly how and where my food was grown
-- I enjoy when the kids come by and they get to pick something, they get so excited
-- I like watching my cat pretend to be a jungle cat as she slinks through the plants
-- I enjoy sitting on the patio and listening to the wind rustle the corn as the sun sets
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Marines and flight attendants
Email a former adopted solider of mine (we’ll call him “John”) the other day, I learned that he is back in school and studying something to do with aviation. I asked what his degree would lead to as a job and laughingly asked if it would qualify him to become a flight steward. He laughed and said he was sure that wasn’t in his future.
Now John is a Marine, and I adopted him during his Iraq deployment in 2005-2006. He’s still in the Marines.
I got to thinking, what if all flight attendants were members of the military? How would that pre-flight safety presentation change?
“Hi, I’m Sgt John of the US Marine Corp, and I’ll be your flight attendant today. OohRah! In the case of emergency you will receive clear and forceful direction from me, and you will obey. As for any terrorists that might be on this plane I will be carrying my side arm, and I am trained in hand-to-hand combat and will use extreme prejudice. To anyone else that wants to get snippy with me or cause a disturbance, I have advanced training in clipping elbows with a drink cart.”
John thought this was really funny. We decided that it would make YouTube about 3 seconds after the plane landed.
Now John is a Marine, and I adopted him during his Iraq deployment in 2005-2006. He’s still in the Marines.
I got to thinking, what if all flight attendants were members of the military? How would that pre-flight safety presentation change?
“Hi, I’m Sgt John of the US Marine Corp, and I’ll be your flight attendant today. OohRah! In the case of emergency you will receive clear and forceful direction from me, and you will obey. As for any terrorists that might be on this plane I will be carrying my side arm, and I am trained in hand-to-hand combat and will use extreme prejudice. To anyone else that wants to get snippy with me or cause a disturbance, I have advanced training in clipping elbows with a drink cart.”
John thought this was really funny. We decided that it would make YouTube about 3 seconds after the plane landed.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
TV ads, what are they thinking?
I’ve been seeing some crazy ads on TV lately. There is one where this guy is going on and on about how rugged his new SUV is and how it can get him where he wants to go. They show him, with his SUV, on the very top a mountain and he’s standing on the edge of the drop off getting ready to sky down the mountain. Dude! He drove up alone and is now leaving his brand new SUV on top of a mountain covered in snow!! I’m not sure this is the demographic the auto sellers really want appeal to, they are too stupid to live long enough to pay off the loan.
Also there is this ad for Oreos with Donald Trump and his double. Who thought this was a good idea? The Donald is not the most attractive guy, or personable for that matter. Who thought having him hawk Oreos was appetizing? And, one Donald wasn’t enough, they had to double him? Yuck!! He must have bought the Oreo brand. That is the only explanation that makes sense. Crazy!
And the toilet paper commercials with the bears in the woods. They are talking about how their toilet paper doesn’t leave paper behind, and you can use less of it to get the job done. Hummm, do bears really worry about this? Is this a topic on which I would consider a bear an expert, or even knowledge? Wouldn’t any kind of paper get stuck in all that fur? What are they doing with all that used toilet paper? Doesn’t seem environmentally friendly.
Also there is this ad for Oreos with Donald Trump and his double. Who thought this was a good idea? The Donald is not the most attractive guy, or personable for that matter. Who thought having him hawk Oreos was appetizing? And, one Donald wasn’t enough, they had to double him? Yuck!! He must have bought the Oreo brand. That is the only explanation that makes sense. Crazy!
And the toilet paper commercials with the bears in the woods. They are talking about how their toilet paper doesn’t leave paper behind, and you can use less of it to get the job done. Hummm, do bears really worry about this? Is this a topic on which I would consider a bear an expert, or even knowledge? Wouldn’t any kind of paper get stuck in all that fur? What are they doing with all that used toilet paper? Doesn’t seem environmentally friendly.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Ear rings as self defense
Ear rings aren’t just a nice fashion accessory; they are a defense mechanism for some of us. I know, you’re asking how could I possibly defend myself using an ear ring. Is Rhetta fixing to break loose with some weird, SEAL inspired self defense tips? You could be asking yourself just what kind of ear rings I’ve been wearing? Maybe some of those fighting stars all the ninjas use? And how do I keep from having them cut up my neck and ears while I wear them? That’s me Super Ninja Girl!
Actually, in this instance I’m talking about emotional defense. As an example I give you the experience of a good friend. She went to get her hair cut and the stylist got a little carried away cutting her hair way shorter than usual, and shorter than my friend was comfortable with. She’s a tough cowgirl and decided there was nothing she could do about it; after all it wasn’t like all that hair could be re-attached. I know there are hair extensions, but like I said my friend is a down-to-earth sort of person with a real life, not into self torture or being overly self indulgence. She knew it would grow out soon enough, so she sucked it up and went about her life.
Well…..about a week later she join our little group for one of our Ladies Nights and was a little fluster. She’d had a pass thrown at her, and it wasn’t by an eligible bachelor, it was by another woman. This was a first for her. Of course, the first question we all asked her was, “Were you wearing your ear rings?” She had to admit that she had forgotten them that day. Until her hair grew out, she made it a point to carry an extra pair of ear rings in her purse and keep a pair in her desk at work.
Oddly enough I just heard a very similar story from a co-worker today. She has a new and very short hair cut she did not intend to get. She voiced concerns about unwanted attention if she forgot her ear rings.
So, ear rings are important for emotional self-defense, or at least the belief that we are safe. Because, as we all know lesbians never wear ear rings. LOL
Actually, in this instance I’m talking about emotional defense. As an example I give you the experience of a good friend. She went to get her hair cut and the stylist got a little carried away cutting her hair way shorter than usual, and shorter than my friend was comfortable with. She’s a tough cowgirl and decided there was nothing she could do about it; after all it wasn’t like all that hair could be re-attached. I know there are hair extensions, but like I said my friend is a down-to-earth sort of person with a real life, not into self torture or being overly self indulgence. She knew it would grow out soon enough, so she sucked it up and went about her life.
Well…..about a week later she join our little group for one of our Ladies Nights and was a little fluster. She’d had a pass thrown at her, and it wasn’t by an eligible bachelor, it was by another woman. This was a first for her. Of course, the first question we all asked her was, “Were you wearing your ear rings?” She had to admit that she had forgotten them that day. Until her hair grew out, she made it a point to carry an extra pair of ear rings in her purse and keep a pair in her desk at work.
Oddly enough I just heard a very similar story from a co-worker today. She has a new and very short hair cut she did not intend to get. She voiced concerns about unwanted attention if she forgot her ear rings.
So, ear rings are important for emotional self-defense, or at least the belief that we are safe. Because, as we all know lesbians never wear ear rings. LOL
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Boring naked people
I was listening to the OPB (Oregon Public Broadcasting) the other day and they were discussing a new law that has been adopted by the City of Ashland that prohibits nudity in open public areas. Blah, blah, blah, blah…. We needed this law because we’ve had three strange instances over the past two years involving nude people. And the other side… We should have the right to be nude anytime and any place we want, it’s part of our freedom of speech, and our right to protest.
Now I could only take about 10 minutes of this before I was bored to tears. It’s really just one bunch of people over reacting to a few odd incidents, and another bunch of people that just want to run around naked. I mean really, how irrelevant dose your life have to be that you’re willing to devote this much energy to this topic?
Why would anyone think that going naked to protest something will get them taken serious? I’ve only heard of one time where it really made an impact and that was over 200 years ago. Young women were commonly stripped and publicly flogged for fairly minor offenses, while men and older women were either not punished, or if they were it never involved public nudity. A woman of a certain age and several friends committed infractions they knew would get a younger woman stripped and flogged. They insisted that they be treated the same as the younger women. The stripping stopped for all women. Basically she was pointing out that nude women being flogged was more about titillation for the male population than punishment.
There will always be crackpots who feel they need more attention and will decide to commit outrageous acts to get it. For some this will mean riding a bike around town in a hemp g-string, riding the bus pantless, or walking around in their birthday suit. Why someone chooses to get attention this way is a mystery, but I guess it’s less harmful than some other things people do.
Back home if we saw someone walking around naked we would have assumed that someone’s very slow relative had gotten loose and needed help getting home. If we saw a large number of naked people, we would assume that there was a short bus somewhere close missing it’s riders and they needed help finding their way back.
Now I could only take about 10 minutes of this before I was bored to tears. It’s really just one bunch of people over reacting to a few odd incidents, and another bunch of people that just want to run around naked. I mean really, how irrelevant dose your life have to be that you’re willing to devote this much energy to this topic?
Why would anyone think that going naked to protest something will get them taken serious? I’ve only heard of one time where it really made an impact and that was over 200 years ago. Young women were commonly stripped and publicly flogged for fairly minor offenses, while men and older women were either not punished, or if they were it never involved public nudity. A woman of a certain age and several friends committed infractions they knew would get a younger woman stripped and flogged. They insisted that they be treated the same as the younger women. The stripping stopped for all women. Basically she was pointing out that nude women being flogged was more about titillation for the male population than punishment.
There will always be crackpots who feel they need more attention and will decide to commit outrageous acts to get it. For some this will mean riding a bike around town in a hemp g-string, riding the bus pantless, or walking around in their birthday suit. Why someone chooses to get attention this way is a mystery, but I guess it’s less harmful than some other things people do.
Back home if we saw someone walking around naked we would have assumed that someone’s very slow relative had gotten loose and needed help getting home. If we saw a large number of naked people, we would assume that there was a short bus somewhere close missing it’s riders and they needed help finding their way back.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Middle aged?
I visited a blog site where an interesting question was posed, in essence it was about what do middle aged people want to be called. Hummmm. Very good question! Everyone seemed to agree that middle aged wasn’t quite getting it. Middle of what? Life? We are more the between age, like between birth and death, parenthood and grandparenthood, angst ridden and grumpy, clueless and know-it-all, taunt & perky and wrinkled & sagging. I’m not sure I’d like to be called between aged any better then middle aged. So, what’s the answer?
I’ve really been thinking about this, I think I might have come up with some better options, or at least different suggestions:
The Revered Ones: Who doesn’t want to be revered? Hey, we’ve put in the time and learned a lot. I figure later we could be called The Most Revered Ones. I think both levels should have to be addressed with our title, making me Revered Rhetta Drennan and later Most Revered Rhetta Drennan. There would be harsh penalties for failure to address us properly. The title would also come with extensive special privileges, like whacking idiots in the back of the head when they prove their status.
Interesting Individuals: Let’s face it young people just aren’t as interesting as they think they are. I mean what have they done? We on the other hand have lived long enough to do things, learn things and to have overcome things. We know more than what is between the covers of People magazine, and on Extra TV. Speak of between the covers, we know quite a bit more about that too.
And my favorite, the Spicy Set! I’m not sure this would apply equally to men and woman, since I don’t think men are as spicy in “middle age” as women. Women seem to really hit their stride at this time and gain a whole new level of appreciation for themselves and embrace their freedom. Where we used to hold our tongue for fear of saying the wrong thing, or hurting someone’s feelings, now we’re laying it all out there and daring everyone to deal with it. We’re finally free of kids, and in many cases husband, and we’re going out to do the things we want to do. We’re eating spicy food, drinking adult beverages on a week nights, and being loud and rowdy. At the same time we’re volunteering our time and skills, and nurturing our grandchildren. We ROCK!
Bottom line…. There are so many better descriptions than “middle aged.”
I’ve really been thinking about this, I think I might have come up with some better options, or at least different suggestions:
The Revered Ones: Who doesn’t want to be revered? Hey, we’ve put in the time and learned a lot. I figure later we could be called The Most Revered Ones. I think both levels should have to be addressed with our title, making me Revered Rhetta Drennan and later Most Revered Rhetta Drennan. There would be harsh penalties for failure to address us properly. The title would also come with extensive special privileges, like whacking idiots in the back of the head when they prove their status.
Interesting Individuals: Let’s face it young people just aren’t as interesting as they think they are. I mean what have they done? We on the other hand have lived long enough to do things, learn things and to have overcome things. We know more than what is between the covers of People magazine, and on Extra TV. Speak of between the covers, we know quite a bit more about that too.
And my favorite, the Spicy Set! I’m not sure this would apply equally to men and woman, since I don’t think men are as spicy in “middle age” as women. Women seem to really hit their stride at this time and gain a whole new level of appreciation for themselves and embrace their freedom. Where we used to hold our tongue for fear of saying the wrong thing, or hurting someone’s feelings, now we’re laying it all out there and daring everyone to deal with it. We’re finally free of kids, and in many cases husband, and we’re going out to do the things we want to do. We’re eating spicy food, drinking adult beverages on a week nights, and being loud and rowdy. At the same time we’re volunteering our time and skills, and nurturing our grandchildren. We ROCK!
Bottom line…. There are so many better descriptions than “middle aged.”
Getting ready to grow
I’m so excited, I have ordered my first ever seed catalogues!! Last year I put in my first ever real garden. It was a lot of work, but I really enjoyed it. I learned that I really don’t know much about gardening, but I didn’t let that stand in my way. Danna and I went to the garden shops and garden sections of stores and bought starters and seeds. We built some raised beds, and got to work. We planted corn, tomatoes, two kinds of peppers, garlic, two kinds of onions, green beans, peas, cucumbers, radishes, carrots, basil, three kinds of lettuce, broccoli, cabbage, and pumpkin.
We have varying degrees of success. A couple of our seeds turned out to be something other than marked on the packages. For instance our corn did well but it was not sweet corn, and not worth eating. Our red bell peppers were just plain ole green ones, and our spinach was actually basil. Likewise our cucumber starts where not all English Cucumber, but they were all cucumbers. On the plus side, our Giant Pumpkins were massive. I donated the largest to the local elementary school where the kids made guesses on how much it weighed. A neighbor girl won with a guess that was just one pound short to the 97 pound total.
This year I’m hoping to do better with seed choices and starts. I want to find a really good pickling cucumber for this area. I put up about 20 quarts of pickles and that wasn’t near enough. I only put up a couple of quarts of tomatoes which was really pitiful! I learned that peas and beans need more light, and I really want to get the right corn seed this year!!
In an effort to do better I have ordered catalogues from two places within the Willamette Valley hoping to find seeds to meet my needs. I just can’t wait for them to show up in my mailbox. Everyday I check my box hoping to find them, but so far no show. I feel like Ralphy looking for his Little Orphan Annie decoder ring. (Christmas Story reference) I have my graph paper and pencils all lined up and ready to go. I’ve got my plan for expanding the garden another 10 feet by 3 feet. I’ve been exploring new trellis options, and I’ve got my tools primed and ready to go. I’m also going over my Northwest Gardener handbook.
Stay tuned for the growing.
We have varying degrees of success. A couple of our seeds turned out to be something other than marked on the packages. For instance our corn did well but it was not sweet corn, and not worth eating. Our red bell peppers were just plain ole green ones, and our spinach was actually basil. Likewise our cucumber starts where not all English Cucumber, but they were all cucumbers. On the plus side, our Giant Pumpkins were massive. I donated the largest to the local elementary school where the kids made guesses on how much it weighed. A neighbor girl won with a guess that was just one pound short to the 97 pound total.
This year I’m hoping to do better with seed choices and starts. I want to find a really good pickling cucumber for this area. I put up about 20 quarts of pickles and that wasn’t near enough. I only put up a couple of quarts of tomatoes which was really pitiful! I learned that peas and beans need more light, and I really want to get the right corn seed this year!!
In an effort to do better I have ordered catalogues from two places within the Willamette Valley hoping to find seeds to meet my needs. I just can’t wait for them to show up in my mailbox. Everyday I check my box hoping to find them, but so far no show. I feel like Ralphy looking for his Little Orphan Annie decoder ring. (Christmas Story reference) I have my graph paper and pencils all lined up and ready to go. I’ve got my plan for expanding the garden another 10 feet by 3 feet. I’ve been exploring new trellis options, and I’ve got my tools primed and ready to go. I’m also going over my Northwest Gardener handbook.
Stay tuned for the growing.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Cell phones, clocks and Alzheimer's
I’m having a bit of a love hate thing going on right now with cell phones. In the past the hate thing was typically reserved for my former service provider, Sprint. (Don’t even get me started on what a horrible, no good, rotten company they are. I could go on for ever!) Today my issues are related to four things:
My phone is showing the wrong time. It’s off by about 8 minutes. It’s slow. Now I don’t spend a lot of time looking at the clock on my phone, in fact I spend very little because I can’t see it without putting my glasses on. (It’s hell getting older!) Most of the time I refer to clocks on the wall or across the room that I can see without glasses. Here’s my problem, when I need to set one of these other clocks, I’ve been setting them by my phone. This morning, when the person on the radio mentioned the time I happen to be looking at my alarm clock, set to my phone’s clock, and realized why I have been running late for the past week.
Now, I had to reset the time on my phone. I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to do it and could never figure it out. So, of course today I was even later getting to work. Apparently I can set the alarm for the clock on my phone, but not the clock itself. Technology, don’t you just love it!
Periodically, like every 3-4 months the ability of my phone to receive email just goes away. You have to reset it. I’m assuming this is some kind of security function, and I’ve asked to have it remove. Apparently they can’t. Now, most people don’t have a problem resetting their email function. It is a very simple thing to do that really takes only a few seconds. They are smart enough to remember how to do this for themselves. Not me. I’m still going in every time to ask one of the very nice people in the AT&T store to reset mine. I should be able to do this! I feel so defeated!
Just about everyone I work with on a construction project has a cell phone. So, why is it that every time I absolutely need to talk to one of them right away, I can’t get them? Of course this is the same thing that happens when I need to talk to individuals not related at all to work. It’s like a universal constant, if it’s imperative that you talk to someone right away, there is no way in hell you can get a hold of them. Why is that?
As frustrating as these things are I still love my Blackberry and I’m still glad that the people I work with are generally accessible. I think cell phones are great. I even read this morning that a scientific study has shown that cell phone use by Alzheimer’s prone mice cut the occurrence of that disease by 68%. I have no idea who the mice were calling, if their phone kept better time than mine, or if they could reset their email functions, but I’m feeling a lot better about my mental health in old age.
My phone is showing the wrong time. It’s off by about 8 minutes. It’s slow. Now I don’t spend a lot of time looking at the clock on my phone, in fact I spend very little because I can’t see it without putting my glasses on. (It’s hell getting older!) Most of the time I refer to clocks on the wall or across the room that I can see without glasses. Here’s my problem, when I need to set one of these other clocks, I’ve been setting them by my phone. This morning, when the person on the radio mentioned the time I happen to be looking at my alarm clock, set to my phone’s clock, and realized why I have been running late for the past week.
Now, I had to reset the time on my phone. I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to do it and could never figure it out. So, of course today I was even later getting to work. Apparently I can set the alarm for the clock on my phone, but not the clock itself. Technology, don’t you just love it!
Periodically, like every 3-4 months the ability of my phone to receive email just goes away. You have to reset it. I’m assuming this is some kind of security function, and I’ve asked to have it remove. Apparently they can’t. Now, most people don’t have a problem resetting their email function. It is a very simple thing to do that really takes only a few seconds. They are smart enough to remember how to do this for themselves. Not me. I’m still going in every time to ask one of the very nice people in the AT&T store to reset mine. I should be able to do this! I feel so defeated!
Just about everyone I work with on a construction project has a cell phone. So, why is it that every time I absolutely need to talk to one of them right away, I can’t get them? Of course this is the same thing that happens when I need to talk to individuals not related at all to work. It’s like a universal constant, if it’s imperative that you talk to someone right away, there is no way in hell you can get a hold of them. Why is that?
As frustrating as these things are I still love my Blackberry and I’m still glad that the people I work with are generally accessible. I think cell phones are great. I even read this morning that a scientific study has shown that cell phone use by Alzheimer’s prone mice cut the occurrence of that disease by 68%. I have no idea who the mice were calling, if their phone kept better time than mine, or if they could reset their email functions, but I’m feeling a lot better about my mental health in old age.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Men, women and exceptions
My girly peeps and I were together the other night and we got to talking about men. I must admit this is a common subject for us. We usually talk about how we don’t understand them, or how we do, or how different they are from women. There are sub-sets of these conversations, like: grumpy old men, real hot men, what-were-we-thinking men, and so on.
That night we were discussing how different men are from women, and they really are. Years ago I watch a show where they took groups of people and ran them all through the same tests. There were clear differences between the sexes. For instance, men really are very good at navigating and women can multi-take like crazy. What was really interesting about this study is that even thought there were very clear skills that men general did much better than women, and that women did much better than men, every person was an exception to the rule in at least one area.
Think about it for a minute. Science has proven that we’re all exceptional. That’s pretty cool. It’s something our family and friends are always telling us, but we don’t really believe them. Now, science has proven it. Of course science may not mean it in the same way as family and friends.
During our conversation, Danna cited a saying she had hear, “Men are like waffles and women are like spaghetti.” I laughed. I’d never heard this and could not figure out any logic to this statement. Then she explained. Men are like waffle because they have little compartments for everything. They need to leave one compartment and go to another to deal with that issue. Women are like spaghetti because everything is mixed up and tangled with everything else. It’s so true, except for the exceptions. :-)
That night we were discussing how different men are from women, and they really are. Years ago I watch a show where they took groups of people and ran them all through the same tests. There were clear differences between the sexes. For instance, men really are very good at navigating and women can multi-take like crazy. What was really interesting about this study is that even thought there were very clear skills that men general did much better than women, and that women did much better than men, every person was an exception to the rule in at least one area.
Think about it for a minute. Science has proven that we’re all exceptional. That’s pretty cool. It’s something our family and friends are always telling us, but we don’t really believe them. Now, science has proven it. Of course science may not mean it in the same way as family and friends.
During our conversation, Danna cited a saying she had hear, “Men are like waffles and women are like spaghetti.” I laughed. I’d never heard this and could not figure out any logic to this statement. Then she explained. Men are like waffle because they have little compartments for everything. They need to leave one compartment and go to another to deal with that issue. Women are like spaghetti because everything is mixed up and tangled with everything else. It’s so true, except for the exceptions. :-)
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Winter rant and finger prints
This will be my winter rant, hopefully not to be repeated again until next year, in hopefully a different and even more entertaining form.
The Pacific Northwest has a particularly dreary form of winter. The world is encased in a thousand shades of damp grey. At times it’s like your looking out the window at the ghost of the world, not quite the real thing. When the fog settles with an icy bite, it will feel like the world is collapsing in on you.
As if the grey and wet aren’t enough, let’s add a little light deprivation into the mix. Our days are short, really short. I get to work in the dark and go home in the dark. It’s like living on a vampire’s schedule, and we’re not talking a sexy hip vampire lifestyle! This is more the old grandma vampire lifestyle. We’re all cranky and likely to bite!
We’re more than a little desperate for some sun. Of course when it comes we will all be blinded by the light, just like mole people. It’s a wonder any of us can see at all moving between two extremes: sun all summer and no sun all winter. In the summer we have sunglasses, and this part of the country buys more of them than anywhere else. But, I’m thinking what we need are glasses that block out the gloom in the winter. Where are the really useful scientific breakthroughs when you need them?
Another thing that needs developing are finger print readers for computers. How lame is it that we are all trying to remember so damn many logins and passwords? What we need to be using are finger prints. We all have them, and it’s not like we’re going to forget them anywhere. You either have the right finger print or you don’t.
Question: I you your finger across the pad, will a finger print reader still read your fingerprint? Do you have to wait for it to heal? Will a new scar foil the system? Just asking!
The Pacific Northwest has a particularly dreary form of winter. The world is encased in a thousand shades of damp grey. At times it’s like your looking out the window at the ghost of the world, not quite the real thing. When the fog settles with an icy bite, it will feel like the world is collapsing in on you.
As if the grey and wet aren’t enough, let’s add a little light deprivation into the mix. Our days are short, really short. I get to work in the dark and go home in the dark. It’s like living on a vampire’s schedule, and we’re not talking a sexy hip vampire lifestyle! This is more the old grandma vampire lifestyle. We’re all cranky and likely to bite!
We’re more than a little desperate for some sun. Of course when it comes we will all be blinded by the light, just like mole people. It’s a wonder any of us can see at all moving between two extremes: sun all summer and no sun all winter. In the summer we have sunglasses, and this part of the country buys more of them than anywhere else. But, I’m thinking what we need are glasses that block out the gloom in the winter. Where are the really useful scientific breakthroughs when you need them?
Another thing that needs developing are finger print readers for computers. How lame is it that we are all trying to remember so damn many logins and passwords? What we need to be using are finger prints. We all have them, and it’s not like we’re going to forget them anywhere. You either have the right finger print or you don’t.
Question: I you your finger across the pad, will a finger print reader still read your fingerprint? Do you have to wait for it to heal? Will a new scar foil the system? Just asking!
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