four loads of laundry, clean sheets on the bed and twenty-three houseplants brought inside. Join me for a singalong?
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 09, 2011
Monday, October 03, 2011
MY LITTLE BROTHER WON A GOLD MEDAL!
At this year's Great American Beer Festival, Captain Crossword's Uberbrau won the gold in the American-Style Amber Lager category. Even though the win is listed in the name of the brewpub for which CC is the brewer, it's still his beer, and I could have cried with happiness when he told me. Then I made everyone in the office pay attention while I announced it, then I got to tell Mom when she came back from court, then I told everyone on Goodreads, and next is to tell all my friends on the Lush message board.
I am so pleased and proud and impressed! Way to go, Toulouse! *both thumbs up*
I am so pleased and proud and impressed! Way to go, Toulouse! *both thumbs up*
Sunday, October 02, 2011
Book Review
Ganymede by Cherie PriestMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
There is no way for me to do a sensible, scholarly review of this book or any of the books in the Clockwork Century series. All I can say is that I loved this, and that Ms. Priest had me before Marie Laveau but I squealed in delight when she appeared. I'm thrilled with the gentle, low-key touch of romance as well as the breathless action, and just delighted to pieces with the whole book.
View all my reviews
Friday, September 30, 2011
Bleah
It feels as though the compliment from Dr. N. was the last good thing that happened to me. There have been daily frustrations at work that I cannot write about and maintain client confidentiality because the situations are too unique to disguise. The weather has been chilly, which is good, but also rainy, which aggravates my allergies. And every time I bother Mom on her vacation with a work problem, I feel guilty for not being able to solve it on my own.
I am declaring that tomorrow is the start of a new week. Goldilocks and I are going to the Ohio Mart in the morning, then at dinnertime I am picking up Mom and Dad, and we are going out to dinner and will NOT talk about work at all.
It's gotta get better!
I am declaring that tomorrow is the start of a new week. Goldilocks and I are going to the Ohio Mart in the morning, then at dinnertime I am picking up Mom and Dad, and we are going out to dinner and will NOT talk about work at all.
It's gotta get better!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Crying at work is not professional
To sum up:
It's been cold and rainy the last couple of days, my mom is out of town and I miss her, I had the whole thing with the dog mutilation and the oversleeping and my allergies have been kicking my butt, and then this morning I totally whiffed a telephone interview, so by lunchtime I was not a happy camper.
Then a client called. This client is someone Mom has known since the dawn of time. Okay, since they both taught at The University of Akron (as did his wife, who Mom knew first). He wrote a book, and Mom and I both read through it and made suggestions and copyread and all that in July and August. When he called today, he asked me how to spell my name, and I spelled Pamela for him. Then he asked how I spelled my last name, and I shot off all eleven letters the way I usually do.
"No," he said, "That's how you spell your boss's last name."
"Yes. Same last name."
"That's odd that you have the same last name."
"No, she's my mother."
*total astonishment on his part*
*laughing apology on mine* "I thought you knew--I thought all of the University folks knew!"
Anyway, he asked if I was going to be in for the next hour or so and I said yes, and while I sort of wondered why he wanted to know how to spell my name, I figured it was maybe for a little paragraph of acknowledgement at the end of his book.
Nope. He showed up with a check made out to me for $100, and more importantly, the news that he had used 80% of the changes I had suggested.
At the end of a long few days of irritations and such, validation like that made me blink REALLY hard so I didn't cry right then and there.
It's been cold and rainy the last couple of days, my mom is out of town and I miss her, I had the whole thing with the dog mutilation and the oversleeping and my allergies have been kicking my butt, and then this morning I totally whiffed a telephone interview, so by lunchtime I was not a happy camper.
Then a client called. This client is someone Mom has known since the dawn of time. Okay, since they both taught at The University of Akron (as did his wife, who Mom knew first). He wrote a book, and Mom and I both read through it and made suggestions and copyread and all that in July and August. When he called today, he asked me how to spell my name, and I spelled Pamela for him. Then he asked how I spelled my last name, and I shot off all eleven letters the way I usually do.
"No," he said, "That's how you spell your boss's last name."
"Yes. Same last name."
"That's odd that you have the same last name."
"No, she's my mother."
*total astonishment on his part*
*laughing apology on mine* "I thought you knew--I thought all of the University folks knew!"
Anyway, he asked if I was going to be in for the next hour or so and I said yes, and while I sort of wondered why he wanted to know how to spell my name, I figured it was maybe for a little paragraph of acknowledgement at the end of his book.
Nope. He showed up with a check made out to me for $100, and more importantly, the news that he had used 80% of the changes I had suggested.
At the end of a long few days of irritations and such, validation like that made me blink REALLY hard so I didn't cry right then and there.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Cage Match: House of Blood 2011
In the northeast corner, wearing a blue dress and wielding a nail clipper, Jammies!
In the southwest corner, wearing a sage green sock and a martyred expression, Little Miss Piggie Pie!
Friday night, I noticed that the little beast's toenails were overgrown, so I got out the clippers and grabbed the dog. Between the yelping and the piddling and the nipping and the squirming, I got most of her nails trimmed, but I hit the quick on one of them, and then could not get it to stop bleeding. The fact that the dog kept panicking didn't help, nor did the fact that the blood just flowed right over the styptic swab and swamped it. When I finally did get the bleeding to stop, LMPP chewed on it until it started up again.
I finally bribed her into staying still by giving her a rawhide chew, then stuffed a bunch of gauze pads into the bottom of one of my socks, pulled the sock onto the leg and taped it in place with medical paper tape. It actually stayed on until Sunday morning, so that was good.
Saturday morning, Mom and I were planning to work as long as needed to get the office ready for her to be gone for two weeks. Unfortunately, my allergies decided to attack screaming, so I went in, took two benadrool, wrote checks and sneezed until the benadrool kicked in, and then made copies and other non-thinking activities. Mom chased me out at 11:30 and promised not to stay longer than another hour.
Because Mom and Dad's flight was leaving from the Akron-Canton airport, they were going to pick me up at 5:45 this morning. We would then go to the airport, and I would go to work. Unfortunately, either I didn't turn my alarm on last night or I woke up, got out of bed, turned it off and went back to sleep.
Either way, I woke up at 5:48 to my father calling on the phone and asking my answering machine if I was there. Eeek! I threw the dog in the basement, put a sweatsuit on over my nightgown, grabbed my glasses and house keys, and jumped in the car.
Thankfully, they made their plane, and I came home and had a shower and some coffee, neither of which helped with the sneezing (allergies still going strong, woo-freaking-hoo) or the headache.
I went in to work for half a day, then came home and took a nap. Mom and Dad called, and I told Mom about the various clients who'd called me demanding things, and then told them both to have fun, and while I love them, I hope I don't hear from them until October 1st!
*whew*
Busy weekend!
In the southwest corner, wearing a sage green sock and a martyred expression, Little Miss Piggie Pie!
Friday night, I noticed that the little beast's toenails were overgrown, so I got out the clippers and grabbed the dog. Between the yelping and the piddling and the nipping and the squirming, I got most of her nails trimmed, but I hit the quick on one of them, and then could not get it to stop bleeding. The fact that the dog kept panicking didn't help, nor did the fact that the blood just flowed right over the styptic swab and swamped it. When I finally did get the bleeding to stop, LMPP chewed on it until it started up again.
I finally bribed her into staying still by giving her a rawhide chew, then stuffed a bunch of gauze pads into the bottom of one of my socks, pulled the sock onto the leg and taped it in place with medical paper tape. It actually stayed on until Sunday morning, so that was good.
Saturday morning, Mom and I were planning to work as long as needed to get the office ready for her to be gone for two weeks. Unfortunately, my allergies decided to attack screaming, so I went in, took two benadrool, wrote checks and sneezed until the benadrool kicked in, and then made copies and other non-thinking activities. Mom chased me out at 11:30 and promised not to stay longer than another hour.
Because Mom and Dad's flight was leaving from the Akron-Canton airport, they were going to pick me up at 5:45 this morning. We would then go to the airport, and I would go to work. Unfortunately, either I didn't turn my alarm on last night or I woke up, got out of bed, turned it off and went back to sleep.
Either way, I woke up at 5:48 to my father calling on the phone and asking my answering machine if I was there. Eeek! I threw the dog in the basement, put a sweatsuit on over my nightgown, grabbed my glasses and house keys, and jumped in the car.
Thankfully, they made their plane, and I came home and had a shower and some coffee, neither of which helped with the sneezing (allergies still going strong, woo-freaking-hoo) or the headache.
I went in to work for half a day, then came home and took a nap. Mom and Dad called, and I told Mom about the various clients who'd called me demanding things, and then told them both to have fun, and while I love them, I hope I don't hear from them until October 1st!
*whew*
Busy weekend!
Monday, September 12, 2011
Yup, still alive
Just haven't felt very post-y. And just in case anyone was missing me, I'll stop that nonsense with the following whine about my Monday:
I started my day by flinging the dog's water all over the floor, discovered I was almost out of lettuce for my lunch salad, forgot to bring the hard copy of the work stuff I've been working on at home for the last three weekends and then got startled by a spider reeling down from my visor while I was driving!
Then work was fairly horrible, although I can actually say that someone literally moved my water dish--Vegan Lawyer rearranged the conference room and waiting room and took the water cooler out of the former and put it in the latter. Unlike a cat, though, I didn't die of dehydration.
Then some really tiny-dicked idiot in a compact felt it necessary to tailgate a middle-aged lady in a white Saturn wagon for three miles, because yeah, that does wonders for your street cred, asshole. Finally, at the store I found out that the food I researched so carefully to give Little Miss Piggie Pie the maximum amount of nutrition for the smallest impact on my wallet has completely reformulated and gone for a higher price point. Thank goodness for a lovely sales associate who knew what she was doing and helped me find a comparable brand.
Okay, whining over.
I started my day by flinging the dog's water all over the floor, discovered I was almost out of lettuce for my lunch salad, forgot to bring the hard copy of the work stuff I've been working on at home for the last three weekends and then got startled by a spider reeling down from my visor while I was driving!
Then work was fairly horrible, although I can actually say that someone literally moved my water dish--Vegan Lawyer rearranged the conference room and waiting room and took the water cooler out of the former and put it in the latter. Unlike a cat, though, I didn't die of dehydration.
Then some really tiny-dicked idiot in a compact felt it necessary to tailgate a middle-aged lady in a white Saturn wagon for three miles, because yeah, that does wonders for your street cred, asshole. Finally, at the store I found out that the food I researched so carefully to give Little Miss Piggie Pie the maximum amount of nutrition for the smallest impact on my wallet has completely reformulated and gone for a higher price point. Thank goodness for a lovely sales associate who knew what she was doing and helped me find a comparable brand.
Okay, whining over.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Book review
Dearly, Departed by Lia HabelMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is an impressive first novel! It's well-written, without purple prose, and while a few of the minor characters are two-dimensional, the main characters are not. The pacing is good, and the plot is engaging. Ms. Habel does an exceptional job of making it seem as if there is always something exciting happening, even in the calmer parts. The romance is sweet and believable. The story of the world is intriguing and not too difficult to picture. While I have a soft spot for the character who shares my name, I wasn't thrilled with the multi-character viewpoints. The transitions between viewpoints didn't seem quite as seamless as the rest of the book. I do appreciate the fact that while the door is left open for a sequel, the book doesn't end with a cliff-hanger.
Well-done and highly recommended.
This book was sent to me for review.
View all my reviews
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Three days at Lakeside
I did manage to get the dog to puppy prison in time to hit the road while it was still light, and made the trip from Hudson to Lakeside in about an hour and three-quarters, which is almost entirely due to the speed limit on the turnpike (aka I-80) being raised to 70 mph.
Unfortunately, when I arrived at Lakeside, Mom and Dad were doing her billing, and Dad was working himself into his monthly rage over the people who have never paid their bills. This led (as it always does) to Dad being a totally shit and sulking silently through all of dinner.
Thursday, everyone except for Dad and I went to Kelley's Island for a day of riding around on bikes. Dad slept until noon, rendering him largely human, and then we went to Sandusky to hit Tractor Supply, Ollie's and Big Lots. I got lucky and found a pretty good $4 book at Ollie's, along with some Wonka candy I've been looking for ever since Cybele reviewed it on her blog. On the way home, we stopped at a local orchard for sweet corn and Ohio-grown tomatoes, then the grocery store for Coke, ice, and Triscuits. We got home and found a barely-literate note from Lakeside security on the front door, telling us all three cars parked in the no-charge parking at the local school needed to be moved. So when the triumphant bicyclists returned, Annabel and I went and moved cars around. Dinner was pretty much an Americana feast--pulled pork, tacos, sweet corn, fresh tomatoes and more chips of various kinds than you could shake a stick at.
After dinner, the nieces and I were outside, and they were playing with the sidewalk chalk, so I drew a couple of outlines for them to color in, and they did a beautiful job. When the nephews joined us, they were more interested in stomping on the pictures to raise the chalk dust, so Captain Crossword drew Tokyo for them to stomp on, and Annabel drew Godzilla breathing fire.
Friday morning, Mom, Jeeves, Annabel and Captain Crossword took the kids swimming. Dad slept in, and I was reading on the couch when he woke up. Bookworm Mathgeek had been so very quiet that I forgot she was at the kitchen table doing Sudoko. Then Dad got up and started his morning bathroom routine, which involves a lot of groaning and cursing. I've heard this before, so it doesn't faze me, but Bookworm asked "Do we need to be concerned about your father?" I said no, this was Dad's equivalent of morning birdsong, and it was actually a little less agonized than usual, since we hadn't heard the f-word once. The rest of Friday passed in a quiet fashion, with lots of golf cart rides and lots of reading and I did get a little quiet conversation with my sisters-in-law. Friday night we had a nice dinner out at a restaurant I keep calling Crossroads and Dad keeps calling Tradewinds (which is in fact named Crosswinds). Later, someone took the kids out for ice cream.
Saturday was the usual last day frenetic packing and shuffling of cars and loading up and moving out. I had to go in to the office and get some stuff ready for Mom to take to Portage County Monday morning, then came home and tried to sleep off the sinus headache that had been with me since early morning. Since I couldn't pick up Little Miss Piggie Pie until this morning, I used the chance to vacuum the house without having the vacuum attacked.
On my way to puppy prison, I swung by Mom and Dad's and filled up some water bottles and left the folders for Mom. When I got to the kennel, LMPP wasn't so much glad to see me as she was glad to go for a car ride. She got a glowing report card from kennel staff, and didn't seem at all bothered by her jail time. She's certainly not been at all needy now that she's back home, unlike Bigfoot and Littlefoot, who would both cling to me for a day or two to make sure I wasn't going to leave again.
So tomorrow is Monday, bleurgh, and right now I have to go water my tomatoes and my basil and my hibiscus seedlings. Back to the workday world with one vacation day left for 2011.
Unfortunately, when I arrived at Lakeside, Mom and Dad were doing her billing, and Dad was working himself into his monthly rage over the people who have never paid their bills. This led (as it always does) to Dad being a totally shit and sulking silently through all of dinner.
Thursday, everyone except for Dad and I went to Kelley's Island for a day of riding around on bikes. Dad slept until noon, rendering him largely human, and then we went to Sandusky to hit Tractor Supply, Ollie's and Big Lots. I got lucky and found a pretty good $4 book at Ollie's, along with some Wonka candy I've been looking for ever since Cybele reviewed it on her blog. On the way home, we stopped at a local orchard for sweet corn and Ohio-grown tomatoes, then the grocery store for Coke, ice, and Triscuits. We got home and found a barely-literate note from Lakeside security on the front door, telling us all three cars parked in the no-charge parking at the local school needed to be moved. So when the triumphant bicyclists returned, Annabel and I went and moved cars around. Dinner was pretty much an Americana feast--pulled pork, tacos, sweet corn, fresh tomatoes and more chips of various kinds than you could shake a stick at.
After dinner, the nieces and I were outside, and they were playing with the sidewalk chalk, so I drew a couple of outlines for them to color in, and they did a beautiful job. When the nephews joined us, they were more interested in stomping on the pictures to raise the chalk dust, so Captain Crossword drew Tokyo for them to stomp on, and Annabel drew Godzilla breathing fire.
Friday morning, Mom, Jeeves, Annabel and Captain Crossword took the kids swimming. Dad slept in, and I was reading on the couch when he woke up. Bookworm Mathgeek had been so very quiet that I forgot she was at the kitchen table doing Sudoko. Then Dad got up and started his morning bathroom routine, which involves a lot of groaning and cursing. I've heard this before, so it doesn't faze me, but Bookworm asked "Do we need to be concerned about your father?" I said no, this was Dad's equivalent of morning birdsong, and it was actually a little less agonized than usual, since we hadn't heard the f-word once. The rest of Friday passed in a quiet fashion, with lots of golf cart rides and lots of reading and I did get a little quiet conversation with my sisters-in-law. Friday night we had a nice dinner out at a restaurant I keep calling Crossroads and Dad keeps calling Tradewinds (which is in fact named Crosswinds). Later, someone took the kids out for ice cream.
Saturday was the usual last day frenetic packing and shuffling of cars and loading up and moving out. I had to go in to the office and get some stuff ready for Mom to take to Portage County Monday morning, then came home and tried to sleep off the sinus headache that had been with me since early morning. Since I couldn't pick up Little Miss Piggie Pie until this morning, I used the chance to vacuum the house without having the vacuum attacked.
On my way to puppy prison, I swung by Mom and Dad's and filled up some water bottles and left the folders for Mom. When I got to the kennel, LMPP wasn't so much glad to see me as she was glad to go for a car ride. She got a glowing report card from kennel staff, and didn't seem at all bothered by her jail time. She's certainly not been at all needy now that she's back home, unlike Bigfoot and Littlefoot, who would both cling to me for a day or two to make sure I wasn't going to leave again.
So tomorrow is Monday, bleurgh, and right now I have to go water my tomatoes and my basil and my hibiscus seedlings. Back to the workday world with one vacation day left for 2011.
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
Time to run in circles!
I'm leaving for the lake in about 20 hours, and I still need to finish the laundry, make two loaves of dill bread, pack my luggage and Little Miss Piggie Pie's food, and what am I thinking about? The fact that she doesn't have her own song!
Bigfoot's song was always Jimmy Buffett's "Death of an Unpopular Poet". I sang that to him when I wanted him to calm down from the time he was an excited five month old puppy. Littlefoot's song was Sheryl Crow's "You're My Favorite Mistake", which I just sang to him whenever. He was such a lazybutt he rarely needed calming down.
LMPP is always very interested when I sing (or possibly pained, I can't tell) but she doesn't have a song of her own. So I'm trying to think what song suits her and looking for suggestions.
Oh, and I'll be back on Saturday.
Bigfoot's song was always Jimmy Buffett's "Death of an Unpopular Poet". I sang that to him when I wanted him to calm down from the time he was an excited five month old puppy. Littlefoot's song was Sheryl Crow's "You're My Favorite Mistake", which I just sang to him whenever. He was such a lazybutt he rarely needed calming down.
LMPP is always very interested when I sing (or possibly pained, I can't tell) but she doesn't have a song of her own. So I'm trying to think what song suits her and looking for suggestions.
Oh, and I'll be back on Saturday.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
This was supposed to be a week in review post
but it's been miserably hot here, our air-conditioning at work is broken, and I am just a tired, miserable slug. If you're still reading this blog, thank you, and one day I hope to return.
In the same vein, by the time I come home from work, I could boil things in my bra!
Snobservation:
One day last week I drove home behind an ice cream truck with two sagging tires on the right, which caused the whole vehicle to list, and a thin stream of blue smoke trickling out of the exhaust pipe on the left. First time I've ever seen a vehicle that had had a stroke!
In the same vein, by the time I come home from work, I could boil things in my bra!
Snobservation:
One day last week I drove home behind an ice cream truck with two sagging tires on the right, which caused the whole vehicle to list, and a thin stream of blue smoke trickling out of the exhaust pipe on the left. First time I've ever seen a vehicle that had had a stroke!
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The Week in Review
Good evening, and welcome to "The Week in Review", in which your lazy correspondent sums up all the blog entries she thought about making and then never made.
Monday, July 4: Holiday! Day off!! Bad patriotic manicure! Slept in, went to Hudson to pick up water and drop off computer but forgot to do the latter, worked out, napped, finished up leftover laundry from Sunday.
Tuesday: Ack! Monday in disguise!! Tons of voice mail, clients going crazy, Mom out of the office to meet with a scary psycho and only Snoopy as backup. Came home to find an amazing box from my perfume forum secret swapper, all full of UK treats and books and cosmetics--thank you, Rachel!
Wednesday: Fairly normal work day, except that I spent time completing a bond application for a bond we not only had, but had filed with the court. Come home, water plants, make pesto, then Snoopy shows up asking questions he should have asked Mom at the office. Also, stripping the leaves off basil (hi Mike!) plants is incredibly tedious, and all I could think about as I worked my way through the double armful was how much fun it was last year with Sherri and how notfun it was this year.
Thursday: Yuck, trial prep! Gotta get all our ducks inna row, in triplicate. Come home, cheat and only water the tomatoes, collapse in front of the computer and die.
Friday: Short morning, started payroll taxes while Mom went to court. Then lunch with Mom and three Probate Court investigators while a thunderstorm pounds downtown Akron. Then a short afternoon, then home.
Saturday: Grocery shopping, tidying up the house, nap, shower, then dinner with Mom and Dad at a local place I really like called Crave. I had two lemon martinis with a stupid name, steak skewers with smoked gouda fondue, a salad and a steak wrap. I brought home most of the sandwich and a bit of the steak kebab. Mom giggled at how inebriated I got after my two martinis, and she wouldn't let me walk to the car with them, but told me to stand still and they'd come get me. Both Mom and I had noticed that the planter outside of the restaurant had a sweet potato plant and a tomato plant with actual tomatoes on it, and that the latter was desperately in need of water. Since Mom and Dad had brought me eight gallons of filtered water from their house, she decided to sacrifice one for a good cause. This led to me declaring that she was guerilla watering, and then trying to explain guerilla gardening with a head full of vodka.
When we got back to my house, Mom helped me unload the remaining seven gallons of water, while Dad fussed over the dog. He continued to do that even while his drunken daughter (wobbling on shoes with one-inch soles) carried her computer out to his car. From a sober perspective, I shouldn't have thumped it into the back where Mom had the trunk open, but then Dad shouldn't have trusted me with it in the first place.
After managing to put the leftovers in the refrigerator and the new spool of line for the weed-whacker on the table in the porch (a decision which took several moments' pondering), I drank a lot of water, played solitaire on the computer, posted on Goodreads and headed off to bed.
So there you have it, all the news that's too boring to print!
Monday, July 4: Holiday! Day off!! Bad patriotic manicure! Slept in, went to Hudson to pick up water and drop off computer but forgot to do the latter, worked out, napped, finished up leftover laundry from Sunday.
Tuesday: Ack! Monday in disguise!! Tons of voice mail, clients going crazy, Mom out of the office to meet with a scary psycho and only Snoopy as backup. Came home to find an amazing box from my perfume forum secret swapper, all full of UK treats and books and cosmetics--thank you, Rachel!
Wednesday: Fairly normal work day, except that I spent time completing a bond application for a bond we not only had, but had filed with the court. Come home, water plants, make pesto, then Snoopy shows up asking questions he should have asked Mom at the office. Also, stripping the leaves off basil (hi Mike!) plants is incredibly tedious, and all I could think about as I worked my way through the double armful was how much fun it was last year with Sherri and how notfun it was this year.
Thursday: Yuck, trial prep! Gotta get all our ducks inna row, in triplicate. Come home, cheat and only water the tomatoes, collapse in front of the computer and die.
Friday: Short morning, started payroll taxes while Mom went to court. Then lunch with Mom and three Probate Court investigators while a thunderstorm pounds downtown Akron. Then a short afternoon, then home.
Saturday: Grocery shopping, tidying up the house, nap, shower, then dinner with Mom and Dad at a local place I really like called Crave. I had two lemon martinis with a stupid name, steak skewers with smoked gouda fondue, a salad and a steak wrap. I brought home most of the sandwich and a bit of the steak kebab. Mom giggled at how inebriated I got after my two martinis, and she wouldn't let me walk to the car with them, but told me to stand still and they'd come get me. Both Mom and I had noticed that the planter outside of the restaurant had a sweet potato plant and a tomato plant with actual tomatoes on it, and that the latter was desperately in need of water. Since Mom and Dad had brought me eight gallons of filtered water from their house, she decided to sacrifice one for a good cause. This led to me declaring that she was guerilla watering, and then trying to explain guerilla gardening with a head full of vodka.
When we got back to my house, Mom helped me unload the remaining seven gallons of water, while Dad fussed over the dog. He continued to do that even while his drunken daughter (wobbling on shoes with one-inch soles) carried her computer out to his car. From a sober perspective, I shouldn't have thumped it into the back where Mom had the trunk open, but then Dad shouldn't have trusted me with it in the first place.
After managing to put the leftovers in the refrigerator and the new spool of line for the weed-whacker on the table in the porch (a decision which took several moments' pondering), I drank a lot of water, played solitaire on the computer, posted on Goodreads and headed off to bed.
So there you have it, all the news that's too boring to print!
Sunday, July 03, 2011
The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Jammies...
I got my Lexapro Thursday night, and had Friday off from work. I had planned to do a little window-shopping, finding the Ulta and Sally Beauty Supply stores in Fairlawn, and follow that up with a workout at the pool. Since the instructor who does the Friday water classes is the one I think is useless, I decided to shop first, then work out on my own after the class was over.
After a fruitless ton of searching, I found the plaza where the Ulta and Sally were hidden, and managed to get away with only renewing my Sally's card and picking up a small bottle of Orly Cutique at Ulta. Since I was planning to leave my car at the Natatorium for nearly an hour while working out, I talked myself out of going to World Market and buying a ton of chocolate. I did stop at Hobby Lobby on the way home, and that's where my plans hit a snag. I had strolled around and looked at everything, picked up just a few items, and was on my way out when I suddenly realized I needed to find a bathroom. After five miserable minutes hoping no one would come in, I was finished and headed for the car.
Working out while my intestines were distressed did not seem like a very good idea, so I came home, drank a bunch of water and took a long nap. I had more water, and later ate a very cautious dinner. I felt fine yesterday morning, so I worked out for half an hour, then came home and mooched around all day. Today I am planning to clean and do laundry so that tomorrow I can go see my folks for lunch and then make some pesto before I lose another bunch of basil. I was going to go work out this morning, but I overslept and now I can't take the time, so I'll have to do that before I go to Hudson tomorrow.
Happy early 4th/belated Canada Day, everyone!
After a fruitless ton of searching, I found the plaza where the Ulta and Sally were hidden, and managed to get away with only renewing my Sally's card and picking up a small bottle of Orly Cutique at Ulta. Since I was planning to leave my car at the Natatorium for nearly an hour while working out, I talked myself out of going to World Market and buying a ton of chocolate. I did stop at Hobby Lobby on the way home, and that's where my plans hit a snag. I had strolled around and looked at everything, picked up just a few items, and was on my way out when I suddenly realized I needed to find a bathroom. After five miserable minutes hoping no one would come in, I was finished and headed for the car.
Working out while my intestines were distressed did not seem like a very good idea, so I came home, drank a bunch of water and took a long nap. I had more water, and later ate a very cautious dinner. I felt fine yesterday morning, so I worked out for half an hour, then came home and mooched around all day. Today I am planning to clean and do laundry so that tomorrow I can go see my folks for lunch and then make some pesto before I lose another bunch of basil. I was going to go work out this morning, but I overslept and now I can't take the time, so I'll have to do that before I go to Hudson tomorrow.
Happy early 4th/belated Canada Day, everyone!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
This is me:
First of all, I've been out of Lexapro since last Thursday and am continually on the verge of tears.
Second, we have three guardianships exploding with crazy family members right now.
Third, I'm planning to take Friday off, so there's a lot of frantic cramming going on at work.
Fourth, I do not want to be around people or have anything to do with any other human beings, so I have skipped working out since Saturday because the pool is a very chatty place.
Fifth and finally, Mom actually apologized for me today when I was angry with good reason with the staff at a nursing home.
I'll be in a ball with my spines out for the foreseeable future.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Another Dad story
I read and reviewed The Passage by Justin Cronin a few weeks ago, then loaned it to Dad. Dad's been very hard to please in regard to books recently, so I just asked him to read the first chapter with an open mind. He started reading the book, and was really enjoying it. It turned out, though, that he only liked the first 250 pages. After that, he finished it hoping for a resolution, but got a cliffhanger ending instead.
Well, I tried. And while I'm sorry he didn't like the whole book, I'm not sorry I gave him something to read for a week or so, and I'm certainly not going to change my review.
Today was definitely a Monday at work, and Mom and I weren't going to answer the phone when it rang at lunchtime until Mom noticed it was from Dad. So she picked up, talked to him, then handed the phone to me. I swallowed a bite of salad and said, "No, I haven't charged the battery on the weed-whacker yet." Dad laughed and said I'd better, but that wasn't why he wanted to talk to me. He wants me to go to Amazon and read all of the 1-star reviews for The Passage. In addition to his earlier caveats, he added "That guy doesn't know shit about electricity." I just said that I didn't either, so whatever errors Dad found in the book (and he has the background to find them) didn't bother me. I also told Dad that I'd bought the book because it has an average 3.86 star rating on Goodreads, and that while he's entitled to his opinion, I'm also entitled to mine.
I'm still not sure why Dad wants me to read negative reviews. Does he want to change my opinion? Reinforce his own? Use other people's reviews to express what he thinks but can't articulate? Okay, the last is not very likely, because Dad is good at expressing himself, but I don't know what he will get from me reading those reviews.
For now, it remains an open question.
Well, I tried. And while I'm sorry he didn't like the whole book, I'm not sorry I gave him something to read for a week or so, and I'm certainly not going to change my review.
Today was definitely a Monday at work, and Mom and I weren't going to answer the phone when it rang at lunchtime until Mom noticed it was from Dad. So she picked up, talked to him, then handed the phone to me. I swallowed a bite of salad and said, "No, I haven't charged the battery on the weed-whacker yet." Dad laughed and said I'd better, but that wasn't why he wanted to talk to me. He wants me to go to Amazon and read all of the 1-star reviews for The Passage. In addition to his earlier caveats, he added "That guy doesn't know shit about electricity." I just said that I didn't either, so whatever errors Dad found in the book (and he has the background to find them) didn't bother me. I also told Dad that I'd bought the book because it has an average 3.86 star rating on Goodreads, and that while he's entitled to his opinion, I'm also entitled to mine.
I'm still not sure why Dad wants me to read negative reviews. Does he want to change my opinion? Reinforce his own? Use other people's reviews to express what he thinks but can't articulate? Okay, the last is not very likely, because Dad is good at expressing himself, but I don't know what he will get from me reading those reviews.
For now, it remains an open question.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Long, long ago,
my mother asked me what I wanted for my 30th birthday.
"Excitement. Adventure. Rubies the size of pigeon's eggs." I answered.
My parents got me a lawnmower.
These days, my mom just starts accumulating things on our shopping trips year-round, and wraps them up, either for my birthday or Christmas, and gives them to me on the appropriate day.
I've never stopped wishing for non-practical birthday gifts, but I stopped telling my parents.
This year, Dad was very excited about the early birthday present he picked out and purchased. In fact, he was so excited, he brought it over a full three weeks early.
It's a weed-whacker. With a bonus leaf blower.
Love you, Dad.
"Excitement. Adventure. Rubies the size of pigeon's eggs." I answered.
My parents got me a lawnmower.
These days, my mom just starts accumulating things on our shopping trips year-round, and wraps them up, either for my birthday or Christmas, and gives them to me on the appropriate day.
I've never stopped wishing for non-practical birthday gifts, but I stopped telling my parents.
This year, Dad was very excited about the early birthday present he picked out and purchased. In fact, he was so excited, he brought it over a full three weeks early.
It's a weed-whacker. With a bonus leaf blower.
Love you, Dad.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Sadness colors everything
I don't even know where to start to describe the last few days. If I start with the good things, my nephews were up for a visit last week, and Mom and I took them to an Akron Aeros game Friday night. Even though the Aeros lost, the fireworks were even better than last year's, and the boys had a good time. On Sunday, since Mom and Dad had to leave at 10:00 to get the boys back to Columbus, I was at my parents' house at 9:30 to give Dad his Father's Day card and gift, and he seemed to really like the book I got him. Then I headed home, stopping on the way at Temptation Nursery and picking up a peach-flowered verbena for Vegan Lawyer and two black and white dianthus for me. I spent the rest of the day doing laundry, putting away groceries, taking a nap, reading, goofing off on the computer.
I wish I could end there, with just the good things.
But I can't. Because on Friday morning, Mom found out that one of our probate court magistrates, someone I have known since I started working for Mom and someone Mom has known and worked with for twenty years, died utterly unexpectedly at the age of 53.
That loss has colored every day since then. I am sad for the court's loss of someone I thought should be our next probate judge, for community's loss of a woman with an impact above and beyond her job, for her sixteen-year-old daughter's loss. I wish I believed in a heaven, any heaven, and I wish I believed in a god or goddess or whomever would allow Ann to watch over her daughter, but mostly I just wish it hadn't happened.
If you've never had to hear a sixteen-year-old say through tears "I love my mom. I miss my mom." then count your blessings.
I wish I could end there, with just the good things.
But I can't. Because on Friday morning, Mom found out that one of our probate court magistrates, someone I have known since I started working for Mom and someone Mom has known and worked with for twenty years, died utterly unexpectedly at the age of 53.
That loss has colored every day since then. I am sad for the court's loss of someone I thought should be our next probate judge, for community's loss of a woman with an impact above and beyond her job, for her sixteen-year-old daughter's loss. I wish I believed in a heaven, any heaven, and I wish I believed in a god or goddess or whomever would allow Ann to watch over her daughter, but mostly I just wish it hadn't happened.
If you've never had to hear a sixteen-year-old say through tears "I love my mom. I miss my mom." then count your blessings.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
EEEEEEEEEEK! IT'S IN THE HOUSE!
On Thursday I carted two boxes of clothing from our Ward who died from the nursing home to the woman who had cared for him and was going to redistribute the clothing.
On Friday I woke up with teeny-tiny fluid-filled blisters all over both hands and my left arm. I checked WebMD, and in a truly disgusting slideshow about common insect bites, found that scabies bites matched the blisters on my hands. I called my doctor's office, and they squished me into the schedule, and then I had about five hours to worry, fret, and try not to scratch.
After seeing the very nice Dr. H., I was reminded why hypochondriacs should not be allowed to search the internet. Without any hint, she asked if I was a gardener and said I had poison ivy rather than scabies. She wanted to give me some steroids to help my skin heal a little more easily, but since they do such a number on my stomach, we settled on calamine and benadrool.
I spent the rest of the day in a benadrool fog, trying to remember if I'd seen ANY three-leaved plants anywhere in the garden. Yes, I've been weeding the lavender bed like mad, but all I really remembered were nettles and lamium. The lamium can't hurt, and I left the nettles in place until I could get back out with my gloves and long sleeves on.
On Saturday, I was reelling in the hose when I saw several three-leaved plants growing up underneath the hose cart. I'll have to get back out there once I have some more Roundup on hand. I know the traditional method of disposal is to burn the plant, but that's a little too close to the house for me to be lighting fires.
Today, I was hauling all the houseplants off the breezeway and outside, and just barely noticed a three-leaved plant sticking up out of the pot I almost had my face in. Like any good last girl, I screamed and backed away, then sat down and thought. Roundup in my geraniums is NOT an option, fire in my geraniums ditto, but I think if I put on gloves and long sleeves I should be able to dig the whole thing out with a trowel.
But that's a chore for tomorrow. For tonight, I have to shudder and try not to scratch all the imaginary and non-imaginary itches.
On Friday I woke up with teeny-tiny fluid-filled blisters all over both hands and my left arm. I checked WebMD, and in a truly disgusting slideshow about common insect bites, found that scabies bites matched the blisters on my hands. I called my doctor's office, and they squished me into the schedule, and then I had about five hours to worry, fret, and try not to scratch.
After seeing the very nice Dr. H., I was reminded why hypochondriacs should not be allowed to search the internet. Without any hint, she asked if I was a gardener and said I had poison ivy rather than scabies. She wanted to give me some steroids to help my skin heal a little more easily, but since they do such a number on my stomach, we settled on calamine and benadrool.
I spent the rest of the day in a benadrool fog, trying to remember if I'd seen ANY three-leaved plants anywhere in the garden. Yes, I've been weeding the lavender bed like mad, but all I really remembered were nettles and lamium. The lamium can't hurt, and I left the nettles in place until I could get back out with my gloves and long sleeves on.
On Saturday, I was reelling in the hose when I saw several three-leaved plants growing up underneath the hose cart. I'll have to get back out there once I have some more Roundup on hand. I know the traditional method of disposal is to burn the plant, but that's a little too close to the house for me to be lighting fires.
Today, I was hauling all the houseplants off the breezeway and outside, and just barely noticed a three-leaved plant sticking up out of the pot I almost had my face in. Like any good last girl, I screamed and backed away, then sat down and thought. Roundup in my geraniums is NOT an option, fire in my geraniums ditto, but I think if I put on gloves and long sleeves I should be able to dig the whole thing out with a trowel.
But that's a chore for tomorrow. For tonight, I have to shudder and try not to scratch all the imaginary and non-imaginary itches.
Wednesday, June 08, 2011
Book review
Unnatural Issue: An Elemental Masters Novel by Mercedes LackeyMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
This would have been 5 stars, except I'm getting a bit tired of Ms. Lackey's overuse of the "Bad guy schemes to take over someone else's body" plotline. Off the top of my head, I can think of three other books, one in this very series, that she's used it in, and I wish she would find some other type of villainy for her villains.
That caveat aside, Ms. Lackey does a good job with the characters and the setting. Clearly, she has done some research into the horrors of World War I, and they are interwoven so skillfully that none of the information comes across as a history lecture. Miracle of miracles, Ms. Lackey even made me care about a character based on Dorothy Sayers's Lord Peter Whimsey, who I cannot stand.
Overall, this is an engaging summer novel, with enough action to make you pay attention, characters to enjoy, and enough bits that make you think without boring you to death.
View all my reviews
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