This: post from Margaret & Helen is an absolute must read. Go do it now.
And if you’re nice and tell me how much you loved what she wrote, I’ll share some pics of the grand kids in their Halloween costumes.
Oh – did I mention that grand #4 is officially percolating? Had the gender reveal a couple of weeks ago. I got a phone call from Cecily (3 year old grandkid #3) one evening. After the “Hi Poppy’s” and “how’s my Matilda” (Cecily can’t hear if you ask her to do something. But if you call her Matilda, she’ll turn around and announce “I’m not Matilda!” Then she’ll actually do as asked. It’s a work in progress.) I asked her if she was getting e new little brother or sister. She was so excited she squealed “I got a PINK present!! I’m going to have a sister!” Due right around Easter, plus or minus any inaccuracies in the storks flight plan I suppose.
Bowling has started for the season too. I think the bowling alley is on a budget for lane oil, cuz geeze Louise, are they being stingy with it! It’s that or the pattern is just different and I’m finding all the dry patches. It’s forcing me to learn to trust a shot where one must throw the ball from the center out towards the gutter 20 – 25 feet down the lane and pray that it actually turns back towards the head pin. In theory, it works fine. In practice? It’s HARD to intentionally throw your ball towards the gutter (cuz bad things happen over there). But if you trust it and get all the little details right, it does work. Just scary as hell for a while. By the time I get comfortable with it, they’ll increase the oil budget and all that struggle will be for nothing.
I’m also finding that 3 advil about an hour before bowling starts helps immensely with what is either sciatica or arthritis in my left hip. Well, it help until Friday morning, then the payback starts. But! in a move mandated by my need to burn up what remains of this years vacation days (use it or lose it), I am not working Fridays for the remainder of the year. So Friday’s first order of business may be sipping a cup of coffee while getting a hip massage in the hot tub. That won’t suck too bad at all.
What WILL suck? Getting the yard cleaned up this weekend. Saturday looks the best weather wise – 48 degrees and only 20% chance of precipitation. Leaves, mowing (last time), getting the perennials put to bed. The camper is winterized plumbing wise, but still needs a wee vacuuming & a quick mop. Outside of the camper needs a bath too, but that can wait till spring.
Go read Margaret & Helen. Now.
This is too funny to have been made up. The neighboring city to my west (Buffalo) has a very strong Polish community. This article very nicely summarizes a little problem they’re having with our recent run of 70+ degree days. Keep in mind the daily average high temp for March around here is a whopping 45 deg F.
I thought Dyngus had a whole separate meaning.
My headspace of late? Work is keeping me comfortably busy. Maybe a little too busy. Even so, I’m finding myself playing little math games in my head. Easy ones like, what would my monthly budget look like without spousal income? Could I afford the house alone? How terrible would it be to sell the house, split the proceeds and walk away? I know it would cut me off from Cindy’s inheritance – but does that really matter?
Then there’s the social exercises – Would splitting up ruin my relationship with the kids? Would it make it better? What are the odds I would meet up with another compatible soul?
Then I wonder why I’m thinking these things when Cindy is clearly making plans for 10, 12, 15 years out – what to do, where to go when we retire – that kind of stuff.
In my sessions with Annette it always comes down to my reluctance to share how I feel in an immediate sense – both positive and negative trends. For instance – “I really like it when I come home and you haven’t been drinking -makes it easier for me to stay connected with you” or in the negative sense – “It bothers me when I come home and you’re already drunk. I can feel myself disconnect and lose all interest in trying to talk with you”.
Things like that. Just thinking of sharing that makes my mind leap to all that other crap I’ve been spinning my wheels about. Thinking that one of these times, she’ll get tired of me complaining about the same old shit. Of course, if she gets tired of me complaining about it, shouldn’t I be tired of it too? Where’s the line? When does one cross it?
Any how. On a hotter note (even hotter than our recent weather), I had occasion to visit a Quaker Steak & Lube for lunch today. It was “All you can eat boneless wings for $10”. I’d heard about them asking you to sign a waiver if you wanted to try their hottest sauces, and the guys in the office were practically daring me to try them. So off we went.
First batch? I had the “Atomnics” which come in at 150,000 on the Scoville scale, which puts them on th elow end of the Habanero range (think Scotch Bonnet or White Habanero).
After downing 6 of those, I switched over to a half dozen “Arizona Ranch” wings as sort of a palate cleanser. The waitress came by and asked if I wanted to try the “Triple Atomic” (500,000 Scoville units) too. I asked her if she had tried them and much to my surprise she had! Then I asked her if that constituted her daring me to try them. Well, of course it did and of course, I asked for a batch.
They were AWESOME! The guy sitting next to me was sweating just thinking about me eating them. Me? Got through the whole batch without so much as breaking a sweat. Hot? Oh yeah. Unbearable? Not even close.
Our waitress (cute little thing – but she’s probably younger than my own kids) was impressed enough that she mentioned in passing that the record was 30 Triple Atomics in one sitting. I’m sitting here this afternoon, trying desperately to finish up this gargantuan 165 page report, thinking that 30 Triple wings is an attainable goal. I’m more worried about the “30” than I am the Triple Atomic. The first 6 didn’t even make me sweat (but I now have sparkly clean sinuses!!), but the sheer mass of the 30 wings might be a tougher test.
I’ll keep you posted. I think it’s do-able.
Day 2563 T – 4
Not to diminish what happened from the Outer Banks on up through Vermont, but the effects of Irene on Western NY were pretty mild. Worst we got out of the whole mess was some 30 mph breezes and a few downed branches. Downstate fared much worse, as I’m sure most of you have seen.
To put the distance from here to NYC in perspective – I live closer to Toronto, Ontario than I do NYC. If the border crossing were to go really, really smooth, I could drive to the Pantages theater in downtown Toronto in about 3 – 3.5 hours. A similar trip to the Barrymore theater in NYC would be around 7 hours.
3 days of actually having to show up at the old job. Fuckers are trying to keep me busy too. I have two boards in layout, two other assemblies to get straightened out and another schematic to wrap up and get sent to the layout house before I go. When the hell am I supposed to be doing my job search!?!?!
No word yet on the job at TUV. Also getting some interest in a job in a town about a 45 minute drive from home. We’ll see how that goes. Pay wise I’m sure it’s less than I’m making now. The job is in laying out circuit boards. I have no formal training there, but I have done quite a bit of board layout.
For the uninitiated, board layout involves placing components, routing traces, setting up power and ground sources, and doing other neat shit like calculating trace impedance for high speed communications (like that ethernet link that lets you read this drivel).
Fun job (shut up, it is too), but the 45 minute drive is a downer. Plus I’ve heard odd things about the guy that owns the company. Not good odd things either. Slave driver-ish, ridiculous demands kind of stuff. We’ll see. I’m thinking it’s better than unemployment at least.
Making progress on the bathroom too. Tonite we attempt to put in the shower pan. If it goes well, sweet. If it goes poorly, I’ll be cutting a hole in the powder room downstairs to gain a little access. I’m sure you’ll hear Cindy scream if that happens . . .
Remind me to tell you about the weird ant swarm I saw last week. There’s pictures even . . .
Just heard on the news, we’re getting pelted by another band of lake snow. That unfortunately isn’t unusual. What’s odd about this one is that is starts out over Lake Superior, crosses Lake Huron & Georgian Bay, cuts across a skinny section of Ontario, Canada, then across Lake Ontario and into my back yard. That’s like a 500 mile long chain of snow!
Before spin class tonight I was listening to some tunes from my crackberry while I was warming up. Well, warming up isn’t quite right, I got worked up into a pretty good sweat before class even started. I stumbled into a way to recover the playlist from my phone, then found that I could share it to WordPress in order to save it.
Except that the transfer seemed to take forever, like it was loading the songs, not just the titles. Then, of course, the whole thing barfed on a Stone Temple Pilots tune. But I actually remember the play list and I want to record it here so that I might come back later and burn a copy to give to the instructor. Unfortunately, there’s no real letdown in tempo in this list, unless you half-time a tune (but then you have to crank up the resistance)
Ozzy Osburne – No More Tears
Yes – Owner of a Lonely Heart
ZZ Top – I Thank You (But she did, but she did . . .)
Thin Lizzy – Jailbreak (good sprint sections here – especially when the sirens are wailing)
Notice the run of ‘ZZ’ in the band names?
Molly Hatchett doing Blackfoot’s “Train, Train”
STP – Vaseline
Not a list for everybody, but I sure enjoyed it. If I mix in a couple slower songs for recovery periods, it could morph into a brutal workout routine.
Hmmmm – I don’t really know (like) any slow songs. Not what I listen to music for. Maybe I can toss in a few Zydeco tunes to break things up instead. Or Dueling Banjos!!
Big. News in these parts. Saturday afternoon 2 tornados (tornadii?) touched down within a 30 minute drive of the ol’ homestead. Last time that happened? 1981.
You Midwesterners & Texans probably laugh at an F1 the way we scoff at a foot of snow, huh?