Start Practicing the Crossing of Fingers, Please

My interview is Thursday morning at 9. Any positive thoughts or crossed fingers you can throw my way at that time will be oh so gratefully appreciated.

I feel really good about the opportunity, but very nervous just the same.

I will be taking tylenol pm tonight, and tomorrow night. Right now I'm really tired, but pretty sure I wouldn't sleep well anyway.

My boss has been out of the office yesterday and today, but will be back tomorrow. I'm kind of hoping that she's busy enough tomorrow not to ask me what I've decided about staying on longer. Because what should I say?

I think it would be getting ahead of myself to say that no, I won't be staying past next Friday, I have something else lined up before I've even had the interview. If I don't have another job to go to, the smart thing is to stay there and keep looking for something that's permanent and not in Boston. But I don't want to tell her on Wednesday that I'll stay, and on Thursday (hopefully) that I won't. So, I'm hoping that the 520-page catalog proof waiting for her to review will take up all her attention Wednesday, and allow me to talk to her Thursday afternoon, when I'll know more about how the prospect looks and feels.

I'm trying really, really hard not to get ahead of myself. But the signs have been so promising! Such as:

• The Guy telling me that the director looked at my resume and said my experience was just what they were looking for.
• The fact that the previous person who had the job had an over-confidence problem, which is not one of my faults.
• And oh yes, when The Guy e-mailed me to confirm the interview time, he attached the job description, directions, and their benefits summary. That's not something you just throw in there if you don't think the candidate will need it! Right? It's a good omen! Right?

Just say yes. Thank you.

Now, just to end on something completely random, the other day in the shower I had a piece of hair stuck to my fingers, so I dislodged it onto the wall. And then I looked at, the way it shaped itself:


And I thought, "What does this shape remind me of?"


Do you see it, too? Or am I really that crazy?

Little Letters

Dear Biggest Loser contest at work,

I am not going to win you. But I still win.

The weigh-in is tomorrow. I weighed myself at home on Sunday, and I've lost more than ten pounds.

I wanted to stop gaining weight, and I did.

I hoped to lose some weight, and I did.

I call that an unqualified win.

I never really expected to win the contest, so it was only the initial impetus, not the continuing motivation. Now that I've had some success, I'll try to keep going in this direction. I can definitely feel a difference in how some of my clothes fit, which is both excellent (since some were getting too tight and who can afford to buy a whole new wardrobe? not I) and motivational. In fact, Sunday night as I was brushing my teeth, it occurred to me that my jeans were feeling pretty loose, so after I finished the teeth I tried the old "pull down the jeans without unfastening them" trick, and off they came. I admit that I cackled.

My next goal is to be comfortable wearing the previous-size jeans currently languishing in the bottom dresser drawer. This is attainable.

*********
To my cube-neighbor at work,

Just because there is room for two people at your desk does not mean that having a working meeting at your desk is a good idea. Of course it has to happen sometimes, but when it's several hours at a time, several days in a row, well, just know that you're driving the neighbors nuts with your constant, even if work-related, concentration-busting conversation.

And if your neighbor happens to have a migraine and is thus unable to drown you out with an MP3 player, well, you extra suck even though that part isn't technically your fault.

Why yes, putting a third person on speaker just makes it that much worse. If you care. Which clearly you don't.

***********
Dear other co-worker,

I can hear every word you are saying. From three cubes away. In fact, you're a little too loud for me, and I'm about 15 feet away from you. Tone it down. You're not on stage, trying to project so that the person in the last row doesn't miss anything. You're in an office.

As for the hacking cough and the constant, enormous sighs, knock it off already.

***********
Dear office chair,

Stop it. The way you rotate when I stand up is pointless and potentially dangerous. And when I'm standing up at my desk and you rotate into my ass, it creeps me out. Quit it.

***********
Dear Mother Nature,

We've made it to the record for rainiest March ever recorded in this area. We're number two for rainiest month ever recorded in this area. Please stop. No one can even build an ark in this weather: the ground is too soft to hold its weight during construction. Flooded roads, flooded basements*, utterly dampened spirits. Water everywhere, hydroplaning, potholes, sinkholes, erosion.

*I just got my feet wet doing laundry. Splash, splash.

I'm going to get greedy here: could we have the sun? And no rain at all for a few weeks? Because really, we're set for a while now with the hydration thing. At this point, you're just wasting it. Someone somewhere must have a drought; give it to them. Pretty please.

***********
Dear Short-time Syndrome,

It's a little early for you to show up, isn't it? I haven't even given notice yet.

***********
Dear Stitch and Bitch,

I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night. I did plan to come, but instead my migraine and I left work early and napped for two and a half hours with the cats (who were thrilled).

***********
Dear Bruins,

It would be so nice if you could figure out why you're super one night and rotten the next. Seriously, can it be so hard? These are wild extremes.

My advice? Pick one. Either play consistently well, or blow the rest of the games, miss the playoffs, and leave me to lick my wounds until training camp. Because this is starting to worry me:


***********
Dear weekend,

You're starting early for me this week, and yet I'd swear time is running backward. Anything you can do about that? Today took at least three days to get through. I know the headache isn't helping, but could you make a call, and get Thursday night to hurry it up?

***********
Dear universal-headache-controller,

Could you take the vise off the back of my skull now? It would make life a little easier. I have things to do. Thanks in advance.

Funny governmental date-counting; and work antidotes

I recently sent my passport in for renewal (it, uh, expired last summer*).

*I used it twice in its ten-year span, so I wasn't really worried I'd need it sooner.

I stopped at the post office after work on Thursday, February 25th.

According to the Delivery Confirmation, it was delivered (at 5 AM!) on Sunday (?) the 28th. (I did send it Priority, but Sunday? Really? Interesting.)

The check cleared my bank account on Tuesday, March 2nd.

And today, a week later, I still can't track the renewal online. It takes 5-7 days, they say piously. They didn't exactly hesitate to process the check, did they? I wonder if I'll get the new passport before the tracking goes live.

It isn't that I need it now, and after all if I did it would be my own fault for not sending the renewal in about eight months ago. But still, isn't that funny?

**************
Work sucked again today, surprise*, so I stopped on the way home for some mood enhancement.

*Oh, not knowing that bit of information means you now have to re-do four** days worth of work? Oops.

**Two days by me, two days by someone else. Fantastic.

These are rolls for pretzel lovers. Mmmm, that's me!

Not cheap, but worth it.

This is a feast for the eyes and nose. Mmmm, flowers.

These look a little funny, eh?

Oh mercy, are they good. Sort of candy coating over good chocolate over really good chewy caramel. Whew.

This job may not drive me to drink, but it drives me other places.

Thoughts of autumn and hockey and cats, or something

When I got home tonight, there was a smell of wood smoke in the air, which smells so autumnal, and in the chilly air, I bid summer a reluctant farewell. Time to give up on that. Yes, it was warmer early this week, but we're done. It's Autumn.

I was babysitting my friend's twins again tonight, and after getting them in bed, I discovered a pleasant surprise: the third period of the Bruins' pre-season game in Toronto (I don't get the NHL channel, but it seems my friends do). Hockey, hockey, hockey! They won, 3-2, but just seeing it was the best part. Bergeron set up a nice goal, too. Hockey, hockey, hockey!

I came home for a quick dinner and to check on Harold before going over. He's definitely doing better. His limp seems to be getting better, probably from practice, ba-dum-bum. No, seriously, he's limping less, which is good news. He's resting a lot--yes, even more than usual! Who would have thought that was possible! And his spirits seem to be good. He's happy to see me, to curl up on my lap or just next to me, he purrs. I have moments of thinking I'm a bad mother for not giving him the pain-killers from the vet, but really, he seems fine, and he was so wrong on Sunday afternoon. Off-kilter and aware of it. I'm pretty sure I'm doing the right thing. I do still have the drugs, if he seems to need anything. For now, no.

I was thinking about the bills from this whole experience, and though I'm not excited to pay them, or to pinch pennies as needed to do so, I'm grateful for a couple of things.

I'm grateful that I have credit cards.

And that I never had to ask what things like x-rays would cost, in order to determine if I could afford care for my pet. (My baby.)

I'm grateful that I got the old computer dealt with, and replaced my broken camera, before this came up. Those were both important things for me, and I was spared any agonizing about whether I should hold off until this belt-tightening passes. Done deal, move on.

Startlingly Useless Traffic Report
The 8:03 report this morning started out thusly: "North of town, 128, 93, 3, 1, 495, all are heavy. Downtown..."

Wait, what? They're usually pretty specific: 128 south is slow from route 28 to Washington Street, 93 south is backed up to Roosevelt Circle, there's a breakdown on 3 south before Treble Cove Road... What's up with that little shorthand, WBZ radio?

I also was thinking, as I drove home, that in traffic as in so many areas of life, expectations make such a difference. If the traffic report tells me that 128 is backed up to the exit just before 93, that's not a big deal. If it's three exits before, bigger deal.

If they say it's one exit, but really it's three, I'm annoyed. If they say it's three and I breeze along until two exits before, I'm rather pleased. Like I beat the odds or something. All about expectations.

And now, it's all about sleep. This week, my reaction to the extra stress has me extra-tired. I've gone to bed early the last three night, and still been tired. We'll see what the later night does.

Thursday Musings

This morning I looked at the weather forecast in the Globe (I know, I know, I don't know why I bother either, I can't help myself), and it said today would be cooler and drier. I looked out the window, where it was raining, and then back at the paper. Yes, it really said drier. Okay.

Not that it was raining hard, but it did sprinkle on and off all day. I saw a rainbow on the way home. It wasn't hot, but it certainly wasn't dry.

***********************

Over the weekend, my sink faucet developed a small problem. It's the kind of faucet that pulls out and is a sprayer, and it didn't want to go back in. It's never gone in smoothly, but it seemed stiff and didn't want to turn, and when I pulled it out, it wouldn't go back at all. Majorly annoying, and I couldn't see where the hangup was.

So last night, I took everything out from under the sink so that I could climb halfway in and work on it. After a couple of tries, I got it to go back in, which was a big relief. (I found that I really needed to have three hands to make it work when it was stuck.) And I tidied up under the sink, so it's a little better organized under there. The funniest thing? When I develop a leak in one of a pair of rubber gloves, I throw away the damaged one and keep the other one for possible future use. So what did I have under there? Four left gloves. Apparently I'm more damaging to the right glove, consistently. I thought that was pretty funny.

***********************

I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday. I haven't had a terrible week, other than that ultra-annoying (in the sense of being an affront to my organizational sense) ongoing project, and even there my boss is pleased with what I'm finding. However, for some reason a bunch of people are having bad weeks, and you can practically see the stress molecules floating around. I had to go to the store tonight anyway, so I picked up a bunch of chocolate for my desktop candy dish. The way this week has been, we're going to need it tomorrow.

Have I mentioned that I keep chocolate on my desk? It started as my having chocolate for myself, and being willing to share, and now it's become A Thing. I kind of want to post a few rules about it, though I probably won't. Do-and-Don't, essentially.

Do:

• Say thank you. Basic politeness.
  
• If you want to, you can kick in (either in $ or in kind). Some have brought in a bag, others drop in a dollar (or in the case of my boss's boss, $20). You don't have to contribute, it's nice but not expected, but if you feel guilty for taking it, well, let's move on to...
  

Don't:

• Tell me you feel bad for taking some. That's why it's there. Honestly, I'm not counting who takes how many. There is no sting operation set up here. It's not a trap, it's just a candy dish.
  
• Ask if you can have some. This seems like it's being polite, but honestly, I'm not putting it out to taunt you. Some people seriously ask, and wait for an answer. Yes, yes, take it already.
• Criticize the selection. No one is forcing you to have any. Picking over it and telling me that you don't like this kind or that kind gets you nowhere with me. (If you kick in a little $ and suggest that you like one kind or another, that's fine. Otherwise, no.)
  
• Blame me for your lack of willpower. I don't blame anyone else for mine. Some people eye the candy but never take any. They have willpower. It's not my fault if you don't. There's another way to get from point A to point B that doesn't involve passing my desk, you know.
  

I sound a little testy, don't I? Like with so many areas of my life, I have some pet peeves here (obviously). One thing I've learned that surprised me is how many people really like Heath bars. I bought them because I like them, but it turns out that my boss's boss likes them, and his boss likes them, and another SVP likes them. I'm no dummy. We don't run out of Heath bars. I stock up when they're on sale at Target.

***********************

I don't know how many men read this (though I saw recently in Google Reader that 20 people are signed up for this blog that way! Really? Twenty of you? Hi!), but if you're squeamish about "girl stuff" you may wish to look away for a moment. That said, can anyone tell me why tampons come in wrappers that rustle? Why can I not stick one in my pocket without it announcing its presence?

***********************

Looking back over the year is something that people tend to do at the end of December or early in January, but my year to contemplate is really the last twelve months, it isn't simply 2008 or 2009.

Almost exactly a year ago, I was laid off.

Around 9 months ago, I started a new job.

Eight months ago, Pan died.

Seven months ago, we got Miri.

Almost four months ago, my dad died.

Among other things, this list explains why the 20-30 pounds I've put on in this time frame is not at all surprising. This is enough stress to choke a horse, and my main reaction to stress is eating. I'm now at the difficult stage where I want to do something about it, enough to think about exercising (yuck), but I don't want to stop eating all the crap. Mmm, candy, ice cream.

I think my brain is starting to win though. Last night, I dreamed that someone (a person I know in real life, and who is, um, not shy about expressing opinions) saw me for the first time in a while and asked when I got so fat. I pointed out the whole stress-year thing, and the person told me yes, but I looked awful. And of course, I know, that didn't come from this person, it came from my own brain. So perhaps the tide turns. Perhaps tonight I will get back on the exercise bike that has been sitting quietly ignored for so long.

Perhaps not. We shall see.

Points of Random

• If you were sitting at a red light, at a five-way intersection, and realized that all five directions have signs restricting trucks, would you wonder how a truck would ever get there in the first place?
• Though the odds are probably in favor of the one nice day in over a week of rain being a work day, would it still make you depressed to contemplate?
• One difference between early June and mid-June around here: in early June, the fresh peas at Wilson's are from New Jersey, but by mid-June, the sign proudly states, "Our Own".
• And boy, can you taste the difference.
  
• If one buys almost three and a half pounds of peas, the remaining pods weigh over two pounds. Still, that means I ate more than a pound of peas, and loved every mouthful.
• And consider myself tremendously virtuous, even though they cost over $10. Healthy dinner! Veggies! Or at least, veggie.
• One will invariably think of other points upon hitting "post", but if one is quite tired, one should just hit "post" anyway.
  

Saturday round-up: cats, teeth, and media

Harold was wheezy enough this week that I called the vet's office this morning to ask what I can do. As I mentioned here previously, I thought that Miri's fur might be a bit much for him, and the tech agreed that it was possible, or as she put it, he could be allergic to her. (Great; in a purely altruistic move, I get him a cat, and he's allergic to her.) The tech said that I should keep track of how often he gets that way this weekend, and call them on Monday to discuss how much Benadryl I can give him.

Sheesh! I love cats, but they sure can be emotionally exhausting.

Not that it makes me crazy enough to need this bumper sticker:


Though I do get some road rage, and I am a princess... And when did the ribbon-loop-magnet people decide that individuality merited an entry? I missed that announcement.

I also called my dentist's office this morning, hoping they might have Saturday hours, but no such luck. This week, I started having a mild-discomfort area that had me looking to see when in April my check-up is, and wondering if I needed to go in earlier. Then late yesterday, it suddenly escalated from "hmm" to "OW!" Not, fortunately, all the time, but I am chewing on the right side only, and trying to drink that way, too, as even room temperature water is very very painful on the left. (I need straws! That would help. Perhaps I will go out later after all.) I don't know what caused the problem in the first place, and I don't know what made it worse, but owie owie ow.

Yesterday at work, I was listening to the radio (via headphones) and my cube neighbor stopped in mild surprise to regard the radio itself.


Welcome to the 20th century, right?

It's not exactly an MP3 player, I know, but it works, and I think it cost about $5 at Wally World, maybe 5 years ago. Someday I'll get an Ipod or the like, and doubtless will wonder how I ever lived without it, but for now, you can't beat the price of this one.

I was wandering through a silly catalog the other day (it makes good bathroom reading), and came across something so startling, I realized I was going to have to post about it. With that in mind, I went back through the catalog and flagged things to comment on. The result?


Coming soon. Get ready.

Rain, cats, and applesauce

It's pouring rain.

It has been all day without cease. Around lunch, I checked the weather online, just curious, and saw that there was a Flood Watch for Massachusetts. When I looked at the details, I saw that it goes until Sunday morning. Wow, that's a lot of rain! They're estimating we'll get 3 to 6 inches. Send boats.

Fortunately, I didn't have to go out, and saw no reason to do so in these conditions. I've spent a quiet day with the cats.

In fact, I had a smidge of a headache this afternoon, and went to lie down for a little bit. Both cats were on the bed, and when I joined them, Pan walked up to my head, watched me for a few minutes, and them draped himself over my forearms. He put his head down near my elbow and went to sleep. It was a really nice snuggle, and might have gone on for longer if I hadn't felt the need to move my arms after about an hour.

Speaking of cats, I just read a book that I recommend if you like cats and books, or more specifically libraries.


I read a review that sounded promising, and found the book to be really enjoyable. In addition to being about the life of Dewey, the library cat, it's also the story of Spencer, Iowa, a town that's gone through considerable ups and downs while trying to remain true to itself. Very interesting.

Plus, this woman really gets cats. Such as the difference between cats and dogs:

"...cats may need you, but they aren't needy."

And refuting the idea of the lazy cat:

"Cats aren't lazy; they'll put in the work to thwart even the best-laid plans."

I'm not saying you have to read it, of course. Just that if you think the subject appeals to you, try it, because I bet you're right.

I'm making more applesauce tonight. The chilly, drippy weather seemed to cry out for something bubbling on the stove, and I've been meaning to use up more of the apples from last weekend, and freeze the sauce for future use. I went to Target yesterday to get some 1-cup plastic containers, and utterly struck out. There were a couple of half-cup sized, and 2-cup, 4-cup, 6-cup ... all fine in their way, but not what I wanted. I found some at the Christmas Tree Shop.

Target also seems to have stopped carrying the trash bags I use in the kitchen, the extra tall size, which fit around the freakishly large trash can I have (what can I say? it has style, but most kitchen bags won't fit it). Not that I'm 100% sure, but this is the second store I checked, plus the kid stocking the section looked up the name of them on his little hand-held doohickey and found no match. Very irritating. It's frustrating to go in for three specific things and come out with one.

In a final and unrelated note, to go back to e-mail spam for a moment, I have two questions. First, why is so much spam dedicated to replica watches? And second, when will they learn that if they ever want to sell me male enhancement products, a subject line like, "You'll for sure will be more manly" isn't the way to my English-major heart. Seriously, Leandro, even if I wanted your product, that kind of error makes me hit delete faster than usual. Word to the wise.

Spam can be fun

I get what you might call a reasonable amount of spam on my e-mail account: not none, but not crippling amounts. And Gmail's spam filter does a great job. I almost never get a spam message in my inbox. I do sometimes get real messages put into the spam folder, but even that doesn't happen often. (For some reason, the "promotional" messages from my credit card provider go there almost every time.)

I usually delete spam messages as soon as I see that they're there, because I'm just that way. Lately, though, I've been seeing a different sort of spam, so I stopped deleting to watch what comes in over a day or two.

Specifically, these are masquerading as CNN alerts, and more recently MSNBC Breaking News. It's amusing me no end, some of the subject lines they're using to entice me into opening the mail. Like, "McCain told lies to get votes." No! A politician lied? I can't believe that.

Here are a few good ones:


I know, small type. Can you read that last one?

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Split; 'Pestilence to go Solo'

It's almost tempting! I mean, someone has a wicked sense of humor, and I'm such a sucker for a sense of humor. Although in the spam world, you'd think that would be a liability.

Since Monday night, I've received 23 spam messages. Four are the usual nonsense; seven purport to be CNN Alerts (with non-specific subject lines); and no less than 12 "from" MSNBC. I like "Poll: Congress's Opinion of Constituents at All-Time Low", too.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some more of these out of the oven:


And spend some time with this guy:


He thanks you for the good wishes, as do I.

This Post is Brought to You by Some Really Big "IF"s

If ... I was ever going to get a tattoo (which I am not because, hello, I fuss over paper cuts: low pain threshold)...

If ... I then decided to get a tattoo of my favorite team's logo (which I wouldn't, though I love the Bruins; I cross-stitched their logo, does that help?)...

Would I feel that the tattoo would look even better if the team logo was on Winnie the Pooh's tummy?

Do what now?

Follow-up question: Would I get a team logo tattoo on my bikini line?

Ow, ow, ow.

The article is here, and a picture of the Islanders logo on an ankle here.

Ow.

Some griping; then, garden

I've been rather out of sorts this week.

Partly, that's normal after a vacation; no matter how short the break, it generally is followed by discomfort when returning to the everyday. It was so good to see my parents...

There have been little, normal irritants, like the litany of tiny things that turned Tuesday night's commute from the usual 30-45 minutes into an hour and 20 minutes.

There's some change going on at work, not bad necessarily but change, and I'm not a big fan of change.

Is it anything other than that? Hard to say.

I think I'm at one of those times in my life when I'm just tired of being the adult in the household. (This feeling strengthens periodically.) It's hard not to be the adult, in a one-person household, where there's no one else to take up the slack. I can put off cleaning the bathroom, I can eat ice cream for dinner, but eventually someone needs to grocery shop, to make dinner, to refill prescriptions and pay the bills and find a mechanic*. That would be me. And I get sick of it.

*And when you put that off long enough, due to a dislike of the dealer, you can end up paying $500 for two new tires on a two-year-old car, which is an expensive lesson to learn. Have you rotated your tires lately? Maybe you should, is all I'm saying.

I know that being in a relationship would not cure all my problems, would only probably change some of them. Still, it's tempting to think that it would be worth it, to have someone else, someone who loved me (of course), to shoulder some of the burden. There's just so much to do, so much I should be doing, when I'd rather read, or knit, or watch TV. Play with cats, or babies (no, I don't have any babies). Or sleep.

And, see, most of the time I'm fine with being single. I love almost everything about living alone, most of the time.

Just not this week.

************

Anyway! Enough whining. Want to see how the garden is doing?

I have many green tomatoes, but finally two tomatoes that are gradually relinquishing their belief that they should be green.


That second one is like a sunrise...

The tomato plants are really much bigger than I thought they would be. They're leaning toward the basil on one side, the green beans on the other, and they're overwhelming the support that the peas need upright, thank you.

When picking basil, I found quite a large ... well, bug. What kind? You tell me.


Now I'm going to turn the basil I picked today into pesto. I'll leave you with this. Across one of the garden paths, two plants are reaching for each other. Isn't nature something else?

Technology Baffles Me

Seriously, I think my DVD recorder has done the impossible. It isn't just that I don't know how it did what it did, since I don't actually understand how the thing works at all. It's that Not only didn't I know it could be done, I still don't think it should be possible.

To start from the beginning ... a friend asked me if I could record something for her Saturday night, when she would be out of town. While I'm happy to help any friend, I especially want to help someone who's always doing things for me, so of course I wanted to. I told her that I thought I would be able to, though as I haven't recorded anything in a while, I'd have to test it and see. She assured me that it was fine even if it didn't work out, but of course I still wanted it to.

After work Friday, I tested the machine, and it worked. I taped a minute of whatever was on channel 2, and it was fine, so I was happy.

Saturday, I set up the machine (after watching A Lot of Doctor Who). It taped: sorry, recorded.

When I went to check the recording, I found that the picture is fine. There is background sound, car doors closing and heels clicking on the floor, and some music, including the theme song. What there is not, is audible dialog.

How is this possible?

I simply don't believe it. I don't know how the machine, a simple DVD recorder, could separate the sound and only record part of it. If it was silent, if it was picture and no sound, I'd be pissed, but I would not be surprised. This? I just don't get it. It's not that I expect to understand technology, but still. This has me stumped. There's sound on the minute I tested on Friday...

She called today to find out if I'd had success, and I had to say I didn't know. I'm holding out a small, forlorn hope that on another machine, her machine, there might be complete sound. Is that likely? Probably not. But how likely is what happened? Not so very much. What happened?

How did the evening turn out? Pretty good

First of all, I must thank Leslie for two excellent points in her comment on yesterday's post:

One could argue that blogging about it all uses more of the precious commodity (time, not coconut) ... And the mosquitoes would have been out in the mist and (although you probably don't taste like coconut) you would have been eaten if any gardening had happened.

I never even thought of mosquitoes! Now I'm certain I made the right choice; the same choice, incidentally, that I made tonight, as the weather and my mood are much the same as yesterday.

As for the time issue, I was actually thinking about that while I was writing! Yesterday's post was one of those times when writing helped me organize all the randomness that was bouncing around in my head, so I think it was time well spent. But I can't deny, it took a little while to do. An investment, perhaps, in the smoothness of my evening.

And was it smooth, you ask? Well, pretty much so. I did have one slight meltdown when I had an issue with the cookies (mainly because I was so tired), but I pulled myself together and headed it off.

To start at the beginning, I watched a little Doctor Who while performing kitty maintenance with a revolving cast of felines (they trade off the lap, sometimes). Between episodes, I made dinner, and even managed to do some of the dishes once the pasta was in the oven (usually I don't accomplish that, and regret it later). Another episode while eating dinner, and then I started the cookies. They did go pretty well, it's just that the dough was somewhat ... resistant to stirring by the time I was mixing in the oats, Rice Krispies, and coconut. In fact, it didn't want to stick together, and that started to seriously annoy me after a while. They were coming out tasting good, but crumbly around the edges, and it was hard to get it to stay together as I was getting it onto the cookie sheets, and I was on the brink ... but I took a step back, put the rest of the dough in the fridge for another time, and just stopped.

And they do taste good! I stuck raisins in a couple of them, and that was just as good as I thought it would be, so when I work with the rest of the dough, I'll try to get them in, too. They're called Ranger Cookies, and the recipe was in A Taste of Home magazine, which one of my co-workers gets and really likes. I love the meatloaf recipe she gave me, and these cookies are keepers, too.

If only the dough would stick together.

Maybe it will work better cold? Probably not, but I can dream.

Anyway! After I chilled out a bit, I turned to the hockey game just in time for the end, by which I mean I saw about the last three seconds of the game, and then all the whooping and hollering by Detroit, followed by all the Cup-hoisting a girl could ask for. (Unless said girl was a Penguins fan, but of course I'm not.) It was fun to watch. Now, except for the NHL awards next week, and the draft after that, I'll be in hockey-withdrawal until training camp. It's my least favorite part of summer, the hockey-less-ness of it.

Finally, about Amy's cookie-related question:

I am allergic to coconut, so health benefits or not, none of that in THIS house. But I always wonder, because so many yummy-looking recipes contain coconut, can I just omit it without causing something dire to happen within the cookie?

I think with this recipe, you could easily leave out the coconut without changing it much. I'm sure that it's hard to be certain with recipes in general, but there's so much packed into these (shortening, brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, vanilla, flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, oats, Rice Krispies, aaaand coconut*), although I like the coconut, it's not really super-noticeable.

*All of which are still sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting to be put away. The urge to clean up had passed long before I got to the end of the cookie process, or more accurately, before I declared an end to the cookie process.

About blogging; plus, an interesting confluence

While I love comments, each and every one of them*, I was thinking about the concept, the heart of blogging, the whole "is this a conversation or a monologue" question, and what I decided is this.

*Except not the spam ones, but so far (knock wood) I've only had a couple of those.

My blog is my Pensieve. When I write about things, whether silly or serious, some of the steam is let out of the pressure cooker. Sometimes, just arranging events or my thoughts into a (hopefully) coherent story to blog helps me understand myself, or make a decision. Sometimes it helps me calm down, or realize that being upset is in fact the right response. And, of course, sometimes you wonderful people solve a problem for me, even if I didn't realize I was asking.

So: I love to hear from you, and I do mean you. But if not, that's fine: I'm amusing myself. Welcome to you.

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I get a couple of daily e-mails, book clubs and word of the day and things.

Today's word of the day was:

distaff \DISS-taff\ adjective

1 a : related through a mother b : inherited or derived from the female parent
*2 : female

Example sentence:
The Solheim Cup pits America's best distaff golfers against the top European women.

Did you know?
A distaff was originally a short staff that held a bundle of fibers — of flax or wool, for example — ready to be spun into yarn or thread. Since spinning was a basic daily task customarily done by women, the distaff came to be the symbol for the work or domain of women. This symbolic use of the noun "distaff" dates back to the time of Chaucer and is found in several works by Shakespeare. Eventually "distaff" came to be used for the female branch of a family and then as an adjective, as in "the distaff side of the family."

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.

Then I opened the Stitch 'n Bitch page-a-day calendar for today:

A STITCH IN TIME

There is sometimes a reference in history or literature to someone being from the “distaff side of the family” (meaning the maternal side). A distaff is a device constructed to hold unspun fiber as it’s fed onto the spindle or into the spinning wheel. The use of this term has its origins in the Middle Ages. It comes from a reference in the Bible calling a virtuous woman one who seeks wool and works willingly with her hands on the spindle and distaff. That makes us all pretty virtuous!

To quote Douglas Adams (and doubtless others): It's a funny old thing, life.

Random musings

Today's snow is supposed to turn to rain overnight, and as long as it does that, and without freezing into a sheet of ice, then okay. Still, it's only four days since the last storm, and I'm feeling very enough already.

In the Unhappy Irony Department, the dismal weather, which is provoking in me a dissatisfaction* with knitting in light yellow (officially antique white, but you say tomato), and has me craving color, also made it feel imprudent to stop for something as frivolous as yarn-shopping on the way home. (Actually, I didn't stop for milk, either.) I only cleared an inch off my car before leaving work, but it was falling slightly faster than I could clear, and overall I decided that it can wait another day. (In fact, by the time I got home, it was more rain than snow, but I still feel that erring on the side of caution was not a bad idea.)

*I am actually pleased with how the blanket is turning out, and will show it off soon, but it's just striking my winter-in-New-England soul as a little too bland this week.

I have decided, cautiously, to try another pair of socks, but I want to find some yarn that really calls to me, and use a different pattern, to see how my experience goes this time. I do have some of the Schaefer Anne left, and it made perfectly nice socks that I enjoy wearing, but I don't know if there's enough for two socks, and I'm not feeling like this is the time to try. This is time to reevaluate the question of whether I like knitting socks, and to a knitter that's a pretty serious question, right?

So new yarn, soft and pretty and not too wild, and since I want to touch it before I buy it, online shopping is out this time. And I must pick another pattern, too, of course. Something that will help the sock stay up, but isn't too busy or holey (I know, it's called lacy, but I don't want holes in my socks, even on purpose ones from a pattern).

Gee, I don't want much, do I? All that's left is to say, I'll know it when I see it, and I don't even know if that's true.

************

I was looking on my calendar to see how often I've had headaches recently, because they've been a little more frequent of late than they've been since I started this medication. Still not as bad as before, but it’s not a trend I want to reverse. I noticed something the recent headaches have in common that I find quite odd.

Weekends.

I've taken at least one dose of headache medicine (the when-the-headache-comes type, not the daily preventive) every weekend in January and February. In contrast, I took one in December and none in November.

What’s going on?

************

I came back from Florida two weeks ago, and I’m still peeling. This is not the kind of reminder of a trip, even a very good trip, that you want to go on for that long! (Note: I haven’t been peeling in the same place for two weeks, which I think would be a very bad sign. It started on the face, then the shoulders and upper arms, and now the forearms and back of hands. This should be the end of it, hopefully in a day or two.)

************

As I mentioned before, I've been doing the little exercise thing, which I don’t enjoy in the slightest by the way, and it occurred to me that I've also been sleeping well recently. Perhaps coincidence, perhaps not? There have certainly been times in my life when Tylenol PM has been a frequent visitor, that I don’t have trouble falling asleep so much as staying asleep, but not lately. There are plenty of possible reasons for this, but exercise is one of them.

And how'm I doing? I've been really working on this for 6 weeks, not counting the week when I took it easy after twisting my ankle. So far this week, I'm 4-for-4 on walking, and in previous weeks my percentages (yes, I figured it out) have been 75, 83, 90, 70, 100, and 100. Not bad!

As for the bike, I want to start keeping accurate track of when I do it, since I think that would provide positive reinforcement, but so far I haven't. Unofficially, though, I have been averaging my target of 3 weekdays and once each weekend, so that's going well, too.

Eating less, now? You know the Girl Scout cookies will be in any time, right?

************

Finally, the 6-word memoir:
I enjoy Shrink Lits, but it simply isn't my writing style. Equally, I find others’ six-word memoirs fun and clever, but I have trouble encapsulating myself. I've never been a woman of few words, once I’m started.

• Knit read cats hockey; read blog
• Family, friends, love; happy most days
• Hate self-editing; six words not enough

My Seven Things

Thanks for the comments on yesterday's post. I'm doing better today; obviously, ostriches have the right idea. (BTW, Leslie, so sorry to hear about your husband's condition, but how wonderful that he's doing all right.) I just find the phrase "congestive heart failure" so intrinsically scary that I was warping out over that as much as anything, I think. Who names these things?

Now for something completely different. Last week, Annalea tagged me with the seven things meme, so I've been trying to think of 7 things about me that haven't already been revealed. Let's see how it goes.

1. I never got over my first love. It was a '69 Cadillac convertible, red with a white top and red leather seats ... I loved that car! I'll have to dig up a picture and teach myself how to use the scanner, but if I get into that tonight this meme will never be finished.

2. I'm not just a Bruins fan, I'm a life-long Bruins fan. Proof?


According to the date on the back (where I added names as I heard them during broadcasts), I was 6 years and 4 months old when I started to document my love of all things Bruins.

I wish I knew if this idea came out of my mind or was prompted! I do love that after leading with the obvious (Bobby Orr), I went on to Gilles Gilbert (though I spelled it wrong). Speaking of spelling, though, on the back I spelled Bucyk correct, right after spelling John as "Jhon". Hmmm.

3. I spent a year in England between high school and college, at an all-girls boarding school. It was a very interesting experience, and I'm still in touch with my two closest friends from that year (although with one, it's more an e-mail every year or two than close touch).

4. I have traveled outside the US many times, including before I can even remember (Brazil, Grenada, Guyana). The countries I remember are:

• Austria
  
• Barbados
• Canada (though only in the Maritimes)
• England
• France
• Israel
• Italy
• Norway
• Spain
  

Looking at a map of Europe, I can see that since I took a bus to Austria, we must have gone through either Switzerland or Germany to get there. However, I don't remember which (it was 21 years ago, in my defense) so I won't put it on the list. Probably whichever one it was, was the border crossing we made in the middle of the night, where they came on the bus and woke us and told everyone to hold their passport over their head. Then someone took mine, and only mine, and walked off with it, while I struggled to wake up and figure out what was going on. (Everyone else had a British passport, except for one Malaysian diplomatic passport.) Of course they brought it back in a few minutes, but I did come close to panicking.

5. I am almost absurdly oversensitive to noises, smells, and other such phenomena. I almost went mad when a vent near my desk was rattling perpetually. I have headphones at work for when I just can't take the noises made by people thoughtlessly working around me :) and I could never work in trash collection. If you walk by me and took a cigarette break 10 minutes ago, I know. I know if the driver of the car in front of me is smoking. I've never smoked pot because the first time I smelled the smoke, I almost threw up.

6. I enjoy reading comic strips, cartoons, graphic novels, and so on. The comics are one of the reasons I get the daily paper. My brother and I used to read the Doonesbury collections when we were kids and enjoyed them greatly, despite how much meaning we had to be missing. We can still crack each other up with cryptic statements like, "I'm a reasonable man, MacArthur, so I know that this isn't snow." Or, "Actually, I spent the whole week watching TV, but he thinks I'm a genius." And I can tell you in excruciating detail why I say, "Oh, wow, look at the moon" whenever I notice it.

Calvin and Hobbes, For Better or For Worse, Baby Blues, The Far Side, Bloom County ... One of my new favorites is Little Dee, which is a comic strip of the familiar in-the-newspaper format, just your basic story of a little girl who got lost in the woods, being cared for by a bear, a dog, and a vulture. Oh, and they talk but she doesn't.

What?

There's a button on the right side of the page. Go on. You won't be sorry. The vulture, Vachel, knits. During an extended sea shanty, he's knitting straight from the sheep. Don't you have to see that? (He put it to music, even, and it's wonderful. To get to that, go here and scroll down to 11/07/07, or search for mp3.)

Even more recently, I've found* an online graphic-novel type comic called Girl Genius, which I just love, though it couldn't be more different from Little Dee. Why are the Jaegers my favorites, and their accents? For that matter, why Vachel, and not sweet Ted? My mind is a mystery even to me.

*Google Reader will make suggestions of other blogs I might enjoy, based on the ones I already subscribe to. Sometimes this means that they're recommending things I totally don't want (other Boston sports, or Boston news in general, or gluten-free interests since one blog I subscribe to is such). Most of them I turn down (the button actually says "No, thanks", so I get to be polite about it), but sometimes I quite like them, and Girl Genius I love!

7. I hate to tag people, in case anyone doesn't want to do the thing and is irritated or whatever by the tag. Though I have done it a few times, for some reason I'm not feeling up to it tonight, so I'm going to do the cop-out tag: if you're reading this, and you're interested enough to start thinking about what your seven things would be (and you have a blog), then do go blog about it, won't you? And comment here that you have? I love seeing inside people's heads (only metaphorically, though, uck). The rules are:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

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Finally, about the weather (more snow today), I really, really agree with this guy, whoever he is/was:

The trouble with weather forecasting is that it's right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.
--Patrick Young

That's it in a nutshell.

Hear Me ... Whine?

When I spent my lovely evening at Logan Airport last Friday week, I bought a snack to go with my dinner, and was partly amused and slightly dismayed to see how they phrased their contact information on the package:


Dark Ages?

Tell me the truth. Am I actually aging before your eyes? Since I can remember life before household computers, VCRs, and cell phones ... am I a dinosaur now? Ouch.

Perspective Can Change What You See

When you look at today's Google image:



... did you see it as the couple walking on the beach? Or, as was my first thought, walking near ice? (He should put that cane to better use: they could fall!)

It's a sweet image, really. Just the way my mind works during the current Endless Winter.

On to real news! The Yarn Harlot has posted a tour schedule for the new book, and she'll be at WEBS again!

April 27 -Northampton, MA, WEBS, 75 Service Center Road, Telephone: 800.367.9327 Time: 2pm
This event will be held at The Calvin Theater. The signing will be back at the store. Please RSVP at www.yarn.com.

I think I'm in. I haven't been to WEBS yet, despite how wonderful I hear it is, and it's only 2+ hours away, and for the event to be on a Sunday afternoon seems like it's made for a road trip. Anyone else interested?

P.S. The sun was out today. Thank you, Mother Nature! Don't think I didn't notice!

Musical thoughts, Christmas and otherwise

What is it with music and the human brain?

I understand how I can hear a song on the radio while driving to work and be humming it all morning, and I don't even mind much as long as it's a song I like, but why am I then suddenly whistling "Immortal, invisible, god only wise...", which I don't believe I have sung since the year I spent in England in 1986-87? Where did that come from? It's all very well for Dave Barry to say that earworms are caused by radio waves, but that doesn't explain this one.

The other question currently besieging my few remaining brain cells is this: what is it about Christmas that leads to some truly bizarre duets?

I thought David Bowie and Bing Crosby was an odd pairing (and, well, it is), but in recent days I have run across Frank Sinatra with Cyndi Lauper, and then Rod Stewart with Dolly Parton. Say what? Who has these ideas?

Thursday thoughts

Note to self: I must try, and really try, to get, really get, that everything is not about me.

So-and-so is not doing thus-and-so solely to annoy me. If it does annoy me, well, that makes it my problem, not hers.

Sigh.

Sometimes being a grown-up sucks, doesn't it? And I'm finding that I can't have ice cream for dinner every night.

I had a doctor's appointment tonight, and the doctor was running more than an hour late*. I got a lot of knitting done! The ruffles scarf is almost finished, so I should be able to give it to the twins' mother for Christmas (see how I try to appease the fates by saying 'should'). What to knit next? I have a couple of ideas, but I may just work on a plain old hat while I ponder.

*Not to mention that I went to the office and found that they'd moved down the street. "Oh, didn't you get a call about that?" No, if I had, I wouldn't have gone to the old office! Silly woman.

One of the errands I ran after the appointment was to the Post Office to get stamps for my Christmas cards. U.S. knitters, have you seen what they have this year? I was caught by surprise:


We must be taking over the world: they made stamps that look knit!


Wow.

I zoomed in on the tree both because I like it the best, and because it's apt: I started decorating my tree tonight! Lights and ribbon loops are on, as is the top ornament. The other ornaments, candy canes, and icicles will be tomorrow, hopefully. I'm tired and my hands are pine-sticky, but it's so pretty.

And Harold helped!


I used to help my dad with putting the lights on. It's much easier when someone is feeding the string to you, instead of having to do it all yourself, right?