Here's what the Natl Weather Service says is on tap for my neighborhood this weekend:
Sunday: Periods of rain and snow, becoming all snow after noon. High near 39. West wind between 10 and 16 mph, with gusts as high as 41 mph. Chance of precipitation is 80%
yum.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Dream dream dream
I was just remembering my dream from last night. It was a cool one. I was in a small audience, set up like classroom seating, to hear a meeting between the President (who was not GWB--maybe that's why I liked the dream) and Leonid Bresnev. Don't you love the brain? Anyway, the bad part of the dream was when they went around the room asking everyone what they thought and I was asleep and missed my turn. Bresnev was not amused that I was asleep. How can you be asleep in your dream? Isn't that like looking into a mirror with a mirror behind you?
So that's the part I remember this late in the day. There was more but my brain decided not to hold onto it. Mercifully--there's enough crap rattling around in there already.
Beautiful fall day today, sunny and crisp. I worked 8-5 today so had an extra long lunch (wasn't due in until 9 but woke earlier than usual, up and bored so I came to work). Got all but 2 of my errands done: took broken Nikon Coolpix to Best Buy (was hoping they'd give me a new one but no, they're sending it out for repairs. Well guess what? I'm pretty sure it can't be repaired and will have to wait 2 weeks to find this out), bought wine for Sunday dinner, went to Petsmart & got bird seed & dog biscuits (will have to pass out dog biscuits if any Halloweeners come to my house--I'm not buying candy that I'll have to eat this year), went to Michaels and got supplies for Christmas presents and went grocery shopping (at--yuck, Walmart. Not surprisingly they did NOT have edamame. Rats). All that and time left over to write out Halloween cards. Which I found in my incredibly huge collection of cards. I'm going to have to STOP buying cards for various occasions, I have about 100 already. I buy ones that I really like, then can't bring myself to send them to anyone. Some in the box I've had for years and years, unwilling to part with them. I framed my favorite Wegman postcards and hung them in the bathroom. I'm sort of bored with them now, though, and would like some new ones. It seems I no longer shop in places where they're sold. I found a Bill Clinton postcard, though, which I'll put in my scrapbook. I've already filled up 2 scrapbooks and am working on my third. Lots of NYer cartoons, ticket stubs, notes I've gotten from people, nice illustrations, pictures of shoes that are beautiful beyond belief, lots of pictures of dog breeds I like. They're books I think no one but me would find interesting and I have fun gluing stuff in them. I sometimes imagine people trying to conjure up my personality by looking through them, far into the future. What an odd littler person, is what they'd conclude.
It's supposed to be rainy--and snowy at my house--all weekend. As I've said, it wouldn't be closing up for winter if it weren't 40 degrees and raining. I have to cover my firewood--have kept putting it off. There are parts of 2 piles that are soaking up the rain and won't be ready to burn for 2 years, at this point. I also have to clear the summer stuff off my deck. Table, chairs, a few pots left that had blooming plants until it got down to 27 recently.
I'll try to get to the dump on Saturday--that usually gets me motivated to do other chores. I have a running list of things to choose from anytime I feel like doing something that doesn't involve sitting on the couch. The list grows and gets funnier and funnier. I haven't included "flush the toilet," but some of the things aren't too far from that. If you put achievable goals on your list you can cross them off when you've accomplished something. I also have on my list some things I know I won't do until next spring at the earliest, if ever. Those make me laugh.
Tonight I'll stop at Ken's ("why don't we plan on that," were his parting words Weds. night). I bought him some candy to give out on Halloween, as I always do. I try to remember from year to year which ones he really likes but he never really has any leftover. He only has great-nieces and nephews who come by, and he gives each kid a huge gob of candy. One year he gave out regular-sized candy bars--that's when I knew I needed to get him bags of little candy bars, the poor man. He does get confused, but he knows it's Halloween and I told him I'd get him candy. Won't he be surprised when he discovers that I did it BEFORE Halloween!
Last weekend Tess ran off, presumably to the bog. She was gone for an hour or so and returned with a little stuffed teddy bear in her mouth. She wouldn't give it up for anything, ran around the yard and danced with it in her mouth. I don't know if she stole it from a little person, someone gave it to her or if it fell out of someone's car at the bog. Chances went out to play with her and they both disappeared--to find more bears? Anyway it's somewhere in the woods, in a secret place only Tess knows about. I once had a big black dog who brought home a small patent leather shoe one day. I assumed there wasn't a dead body in the woods, but I never did figure out what that was all about. These dogs are so very proud of their goodies.
I've finished up my Friday data base clean-up and now need to go through all the damaged books to decide what to do about them. We just started a Policy of Intolerance about lost and damaged books, which has caused quite a stir among our libraries and correctional facilities. We got back a biography of Malcolm X that has all the pictures cut out of it. hmmm. We sent out $3000 worth of bills (at $20 per book, video, audio, etc.) and got back $2000 worth of books. Honestly--these people just don't take us seriously, do they.
Ever onward.
I was just remembering my dream from last night. It was a cool one. I was in a small audience, set up like classroom seating, to hear a meeting between the President (who was not GWB--maybe that's why I liked the dream) and Leonid Bresnev. Don't you love the brain? Anyway, the bad part of the dream was when they went around the room asking everyone what they thought and I was asleep and missed my turn. Bresnev was not amused that I was asleep. How can you be asleep in your dream? Isn't that like looking into a mirror with a mirror behind you?
So that's the part I remember this late in the day. There was more but my brain decided not to hold onto it. Mercifully--there's enough crap rattling around in there already.
Beautiful fall day today, sunny and crisp. I worked 8-5 today so had an extra long lunch (wasn't due in until 9 but woke earlier than usual, up and bored so I came to work). Got all but 2 of my errands done: took broken Nikon Coolpix to Best Buy (was hoping they'd give me a new one but no, they're sending it out for repairs. Well guess what? I'm pretty sure it can't be repaired and will have to wait 2 weeks to find this out), bought wine for Sunday dinner, went to Petsmart & got bird seed & dog biscuits (will have to pass out dog biscuits if any Halloweeners come to my house--I'm not buying candy that I'll have to eat this year), went to Michaels and got supplies for Christmas presents and went grocery shopping (at--yuck, Walmart. Not surprisingly they did NOT have edamame. Rats). All that and time left over to write out Halloween cards. Which I found in my incredibly huge collection of cards. I'm going to have to STOP buying cards for various occasions, I have about 100 already. I buy ones that I really like, then can't bring myself to send them to anyone. Some in the box I've had for years and years, unwilling to part with them. I framed my favorite Wegman postcards and hung them in the bathroom. I'm sort of bored with them now, though, and would like some new ones. It seems I no longer shop in places where they're sold. I found a Bill Clinton postcard, though, which I'll put in my scrapbook. I've already filled up 2 scrapbooks and am working on my third. Lots of NYer cartoons, ticket stubs, notes I've gotten from people, nice illustrations, pictures of shoes that are beautiful beyond belief, lots of pictures of dog breeds I like. They're books I think no one but me would find interesting and I have fun gluing stuff in them. I sometimes imagine people trying to conjure up my personality by looking through them, far into the future. What an odd littler person, is what they'd conclude.
It's supposed to be rainy--and snowy at my house--all weekend. As I've said, it wouldn't be closing up for winter if it weren't 40 degrees and raining. I have to cover my firewood--have kept putting it off. There are parts of 2 piles that are soaking up the rain and won't be ready to burn for 2 years, at this point. I also have to clear the summer stuff off my deck. Table, chairs, a few pots left that had blooming plants until it got down to 27 recently.
I'll try to get to the dump on Saturday--that usually gets me motivated to do other chores. I have a running list of things to choose from anytime I feel like doing something that doesn't involve sitting on the couch. The list grows and gets funnier and funnier. I haven't included "flush the toilet," but some of the things aren't too far from that. If you put achievable goals on your list you can cross them off when you've accomplished something. I also have on my list some things I know I won't do until next spring at the earliest, if ever. Those make me laugh.
Tonight I'll stop at Ken's ("why don't we plan on that," were his parting words Weds. night). I bought him some candy to give out on Halloween, as I always do. I try to remember from year to year which ones he really likes but he never really has any leftover. He only has great-nieces and nephews who come by, and he gives each kid a huge gob of candy. One year he gave out regular-sized candy bars--that's when I knew I needed to get him bags of little candy bars, the poor man. He does get confused, but he knows it's Halloween and I told him I'd get him candy. Won't he be surprised when he discovers that I did it BEFORE Halloween!
Last weekend Tess ran off, presumably to the bog. She was gone for an hour or so and returned with a little stuffed teddy bear in her mouth. She wouldn't give it up for anything, ran around the yard and danced with it in her mouth. I don't know if she stole it from a little person, someone gave it to her or if it fell out of someone's car at the bog. Chances went out to play with her and they both disappeared--to find more bears? Anyway it's somewhere in the woods, in a secret place only Tess knows about. I once had a big black dog who brought home a small patent leather shoe one day. I assumed there wasn't a dead body in the woods, but I never did figure out what that was all about. These dogs are so very proud of their goodies.
I've finished up my Friday data base clean-up and now need to go through all the damaged books to decide what to do about them. We just started a Policy of Intolerance about lost and damaged books, which has caused quite a stir among our libraries and correctional facilities. We got back a biography of Malcolm X that has all the pictures cut out of it. hmmm. We sent out $3000 worth of bills (at $20 per book, video, audio, etc.) and got back $2000 worth of books. Honestly--these people just don't take us seriously, do they.
Ever onward.
This comes from Heather Graham's blog, Dooce. Although I hate to dwell on mental illness, she's quoting a reporter from New Orleans who went into a deep depression after Katrina. It's so difficult to describe any sort of mental illness, and each person's version is different. I don't think I was ever seeking the understanding of the diseases, just patience and indulgence of people I know. I had a really bad experience with this when I told my (then) husband about my situation. His response was "I don't want to deal with it." Those are his exact words. Thank you very much, O Compassionate One. Fortunately I had a really good support group during that time and those people listened to me endlessly. I talked to Barb every single nightevery single night. That was one thing that got me through the whole experience of separation, diagnosis and the attempts to get my life back.
I’m including it here because I get a lot of email from people who are the husband or the wife or sister or friend of someone who suffers depression, and they want to know what they can do to help. There is no fast answer to that, but the first step is to try and understand what depression is like for those who suffer from it, to stand by and not judge them for the maelstrom of crap going on in their heads.
A few excellent quotes from the column:
Hopeless, helpless and unable to function. A mind shutting down and taking the body with it. A pain not physical but not of my comprehension and always there, a buzzing fluorescent light that you can’t turn off.
No way out, I thought.
I had crying jags and fetal positionings and other “episodes.” One day last fall, while the city was still mostly abandoned, I passed out on the job, fell face first into a tree, snapped my glasses in half, gouged a hole in my forehead and lay unconscious on the side of the road for an entire afternoon. [you can call this rolling your car if you want--ER]
You might think that would have been a wake-up call, but it wasn’t. Instead, like everything else happening to me, I wrote a column about it, trying to make it all sound so funny.
I hate being dependent on a drug. Hate it more than I can say. But if the alternative is a proud stoicism in the face of sorrow accompanied by prolonged and unspeakable despair — well, I’ll take dependency.
I’m including it here because I get a lot of email from people who are the husband or the wife or sister or friend of someone who suffers depression, and they want to know what they can do to help. There is no fast answer to that, but the first step is to try and understand what depression is like for those who suffer from it, to stand by and not judge them for the maelstrom of crap going on in their heads.
A few excellent quotes from the column:
Hopeless, helpless and unable to function. A mind shutting down and taking the body with it. A pain not physical but not of my comprehension and always there, a buzzing fluorescent light that you can’t turn off.
No way out, I thought.
I had crying jags and fetal positionings and other “episodes.” One day last fall, while the city was still mostly abandoned, I passed out on the job, fell face first into a tree, snapped my glasses in half, gouged a hole in my forehead and lay unconscious on the side of the road for an entire afternoon. [you can call this rolling your car if you want--ER]
You might think that would have been a wake-up call, but it wasn’t. Instead, like everything else happening to me, I wrote a column about it, trying to make it all sound so funny.
I hate being dependent on a drug. Hate it more than I can say. But if the alternative is a proud stoicism in the face of sorrow accompanied by prolonged and unspeakable despair — well, I’ll take dependency.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Musings
This was posted to the public library listserv. Although pretty dramatic, I think the author was brave to admit her illness on such a public forum. And I really agree with what she says, although I never realized that one of the things I find offensive about "mental health days" is the use of the term.
I, too, would like to climb up on the soapbox for just a moment. In one
of the messages on this subject, someone mentioned "mental health days"
and it is to this I wish to direct my comments. As someone who has, for
many years, battled severe depression, I find this use of the term
obnoxious and demeaning (to borrow from the previous soapbox speaker).
I beg everyone to understand that for some people, a mental health day
is not a euphemism for playing hooky; it is a day lost to the life we
sometimes struggle to live.
This was posted to the public library listserv. Although pretty dramatic, I think the author was brave to admit her illness on such a public forum. And I really agree with what she says, although I never realized that one of the things I find offensive about "mental health days" is the use of the term.
I, too, would like to climb up on the soapbox for just a moment. In one
of the messages on this subject, someone mentioned "mental health days"
and it is to this I wish to direct my comments. As someone who has, for
many years, battled severe depression, I find this use of the term
obnoxious and demeaning (to borrow from the previous soapbox speaker).
I beg everyone to understand that for some people, a mental health day
is not a euphemism for playing hooky; it is a day lost to the life we
sometimes struggle to live.
Avoidance technique
There's not really much going on but if I don't do this I'll have to:
**Edit and make changes in the Lost Items Policy
**Write up minutes from meeting in Saranac Lake that happened about a month ago
**Put together a book order that equals exactly $2000 because that's all I have left to spend until January
**Continue my work in editing records in which the first words searched are A, An and The.
Does any of this sound remotely interesting? Actually the last one is very relaxing and rewarding, but after an hour or so I start to not care, my eyes get bleary, I focus more on the music I'm listening to, and I get really frustrated by the number of awful records our member libraries have put in the data base over the years. So I'll do that for a while until I've steeled myself to do my real work.
Life is settling into a winter routine here. The snow has pretty much melted, but I'm having a fire every night so must wrassle with the firewood piles. They're not covered adequately, and since it's been precipitating for the past week or so much of the wood is soaked and thus will not ignite. I crawl under the tarp, stepping on uneven and rolling pieces of firewood. So far I've only landed no my ass once, but I'm figuring that number will change soon enough. I tread very carefully, but it's a balancing act at best. I am finding, though, that most of the wood I bought in May is dry enough to burn--YESYESYES this is very exciting. What was last stacked, the stuff I got in September has a very doubtful future for the Burning Season of 2006-2007. I don't expect it to be dry enough but will probably have to use it at the end of the winter, totally gunking up my chimney until all I get is smoke pouring out of the stove when I open it--no heat, no flame, just smoke. I've had the chimney cleaned (and have the bounced check to prove it) and am off to a flying start so far.
I met a dog named Atticus recently. Not at all like his namesake, this dog is untrustworthy, bordering on vicious. The guy adopted him from a pound, and the first time he walked him the dog ripped another person's jeans in an attack. Well, for me that would have been a clear message that the dog needed to go back to the pound (I will not have a dog that bites--the last time I did, he went to sleep at the vet's and never woke up). Kevin wants this dog, however, and his method for dealing with aggression is to have the dog take a Time Out. Fred described it to me after Atticus bit Fred's ankle (no broken skin, thanks to socks and shoes). Kevin picks up the dog (who must weigh close to 70 pounds) and carries him to a spot away from the action, laying him down gently. He tells the dog he's in a Time Out and Atticus lies there until he's told it's ok to get up. The owner doubtless learned this from a trainer, and Fred said it seems to work. I only met the dog briefly and was told he was "nervous," so I backed away immediately. He's not a particularly attractive dog, with a stub tail and pointed snout (most likely a cross between German shepherd and Rottweiler, is my guess. Well there's no accounting for taste in pets--otherwise why would there be teacup poodles and chihuahuas).
And it's only Tuesday. Last night we had a board meeting, attended by the bored. It ended in record time for me, since they went into Executive Session at 4:50. I didn't wait for the outcome, I wanted to get home. I need to take Tess to the vet but didn't get home early enough for that last night, and Weds. is dinner with Ken, which I can't postpone because Thursday night I'm having my hair highlighted. All this sounds as if my life is complicated, but it's really incredibly mundane and simple. I may make an appointment in Westport for Saturday morning (now, should that be "for Saturday morning in Westport?" which phrase goes first?) but that would mean missing out on more than 2 hours worth of the day. I'm embarrassed to admit that I have yet to finish closing the boat house, and Saturday is THE DAY I must do that. Come on, baby get your ass down there and do the 3 or 4 things that need to be done. As I've said, it wouldn't be closing the boat house unless it's 40 degrees and wet outside. My excuse last weekend was that the driveway was too slippery with snow for me to get back up it once I got down there (maybe true, maybe not) and I had to go to a reception for Bill in Plattsburgh, having been assigned the Designated Driver for Ken. Those are semi-valid excuses but they reek of procrastination.
The reception for Bill was very impressive--they've named an area in the Student Center after him--the William D. Laundry Suite, and the dedication was Sat. at 2:00. Ken got lots of attention and had his picture taken by a huge number of photographers. I stood in the background, sort of like an aide, with my hands behind my back. At one point during the speeches Ken started swaying a little bit and I wondered if he were going to sleep or about to collapse because he can't stand still for that long. Anyway it involved a lot of walking--a lot of walking, and walking with Ken is much like walking with an 18-month old, slow and methodical. Ken, it turns out, had been looking forward to a meal at Friendly's (grossout restaurant) so that's what we did at 3:30. Yucka pucka.
That would have sufficed, but when I got home Fred called and wanted to go out for our final outing of the season. I said I wouldn't be able to eat anything until 6, so then we went to a pub-type place in Wilmington where they serve alcohol and have ok food. As always, we enjoyed each other's company and had a nice time. Lots of laughter, good for the soul. He left Hawkeye Sunday night for his winter home in Plattsburgh, with great sadness and mourning.
So now what? I like playing with the data base so I'll probably do that first. The Lost Item Policy beckons, though, and it won't be long before the director asks for that. Be responsible, dear, be responsible.
There's not really much going on but if I don't do this I'll have to:
**Edit and make changes in the Lost Items Policy
**Write up minutes from meeting in Saranac Lake that happened about a month ago
**Put together a book order that equals exactly $2000 because that's all I have left to spend until January
**Continue my work in editing records in which the first words searched are A, An and The.
Does any of this sound remotely interesting? Actually the last one is very relaxing and rewarding, but after an hour or so I start to not care, my eyes get bleary, I focus more on the music I'm listening to, and I get really frustrated by the number of awful records our member libraries have put in the data base over the years. So I'll do that for a while until I've steeled myself to do my real work.
Life is settling into a winter routine here. The snow has pretty much melted, but I'm having a fire every night so must wrassle with the firewood piles. They're not covered adequately, and since it's been precipitating for the past week or so much of the wood is soaked and thus will not ignite. I crawl under the tarp, stepping on uneven and rolling pieces of firewood. So far I've only landed no my ass once, but I'm figuring that number will change soon enough. I tread very carefully, but it's a balancing act at best. I am finding, though, that most of the wood I bought in May is dry enough to burn--YESYESYES this is very exciting. What was last stacked, the stuff I got in September has a very doubtful future for the Burning Season of 2006-2007. I don't expect it to be dry enough but will probably have to use it at the end of the winter, totally gunking up my chimney until all I get is smoke pouring out of the stove when I open it--no heat, no flame, just smoke. I've had the chimney cleaned (and have the bounced check to prove it) and am off to a flying start so far.
I met a dog named Atticus recently. Not at all like his namesake, this dog is untrustworthy, bordering on vicious. The guy adopted him from a pound, and the first time he walked him the dog ripped another person's jeans in an attack. Well, for me that would have been a clear message that the dog needed to go back to the pound (I will not have a dog that bites--the last time I did, he went to sleep at the vet's and never woke up). Kevin wants this dog, however, and his method for dealing with aggression is to have the dog take a Time Out. Fred described it to me after Atticus bit Fred's ankle (no broken skin, thanks to socks and shoes). Kevin picks up the dog (who must weigh close to 70 pounds) and carries him to a spot away from the action, laying him down gently. He tells the dog he's in a Time Out and Atticus lies there until he's told it's ok to get up. The owner doubtless learned this from a trainer, and Fred said it seems to work. I only met the dog briefly and was told he was "nervous," so I backed away immediately. He's not a particularly attractive dog, with a stub tail and pointed snout (most likely a cross between German shepherd and Rottweiler, is my guess. Well there's no accounting for taste in pets--otherwise why would there be teacup poodles and chihuahuas).
And it's only Tuesday. Last night we had a board meeting, attended by the bored. It ended in record time for me, since they went into Executive Session at 4:50. I didn't wait for the outcome, I wanted to get home. I need to take Tess to the vet but didn't get home early enough for that last night, and Weds. is dinner with Ken, which I can't postpone because Thursday night I'm having my hair highlighted. All this sounds as if my life is complicated, but it's really incredibly mundane and simple. I may make an appointment in Westport for Saturday morning (now, should that be "for Saturday morning in Westport?" which phrase goes first?) but that would mean missing out on more than 2 hours worth of the day. I'm embarrassed to admit that I have yet to finish closing the boat house, and Saturday is THE DAY I must do that. Come on, baby get your ass down there and do the 3 or 4 things that need to be done. As I've said, it wouldn't be closing the boat house unless it's 40 degrees and wet outside. My excuse last weekend was that the driveway was too slippery with snow for me to get back up it once I got down there (maybe true, maybe not) and I had to go to a reception for Bill in Plattsburgh, having been assigned the Designated Driver for Ken. Those are semi-valid excuses but they reek of procrastination.
The reception for Bill was very impressive--they've named an area in the Student Center after him--the William D. Laundry Suite, and the dedication was Sat. at 2:00. Ken got lots of attention and had his picture taken by a huge number of photographers. I stood in the background, sort of like an aide, with my hands behind my back. At one point during the speeches Ken started swaying a little bit and I wondered if he were going to sleep or about to collapse because he can't stand still for that long. Anyway it involved a lot of walking--a lot of walking, and walking with Ken is much like walking with an 18-month old, slow and methodical. Ken, it turns out, had been looking forward to a meal at Friendly's (grossout restaurant) so that's what we did at 3:30. Yucka pucka.
That would have sufficed, but when I got home Fred called and wanted to go out for our final outing of the season. I said I wouldn't be able to eat anything until 6, so then we went to a pub-type place in Wilmington where they serve alcohol and have ok food. As always, we enjoyed each other's company and had a nice time. Lots of laughter, good for the soul. He left Hawkeye Sunday night for his winter home in Plattsburgh, with great sadness and mourning.
So now what? I like playing with the data base so I'll probably do that first. The Lost Item Policy beckons, though, and it won't be long before the director asks for that. Be responsible, dear, be responsible.
Monday, October 23, 2006
night snow
This is what it looked like on my road Friday night. My sister and I have notable poems that we wrote in our youth. Her's started out "It snowed last night for the first time this year." I always think of it when I get up in the morning and it has snowed. My poem was not nearly as nice--it was about suicide. Just as well forgotten, I'm afraid.
Friday, October 20, 2006
The classics
I had a classic anxiety dream last night, one which made me laugh when I woke up. My colleague and good friend Julie and I had been at a library program with consultants from THE STATE (our ultimate bosses), and I think my boss was Mrs. Giusti (joosty). Mrs. Giusti was the Head of the Reference Dept. at the Providence Public Library, where I worked from 1977 to 1984. That was nearly 30 years ago. Anyway, I worked for her for a year before being promoted to Head of Cataloging, and didn't do very well. She ran a tight ship and was near the end of her career. She was never on desk. Being on the desk was really hard--we had homeless, mentally ill patrons, lots of bar bets, lots of homework questions (the culinary arts school of Johnson & Wales was in its infancy and those students had no library so they'd come in, wearing their chef's outfits and tell us "I have to write a 10-page paper on basil--what books do you have on that?" This was before the days of the Internet, so all we had were print sources. It wasn't fun to serve them), people who wanted us to do various tasks for them so they could come in and pick up the stuff. The phone rang constantly (PPL is the 2nd largest library in New England, with 600,000 volumes). Anyway, Mrs. Giusti didn't do much and there she was in my dream last night.
So after the program, which ended at 1:00 in the afternoon, we had the choice of going home or going back to work. I elected to drive back to work (we were far from work). I was going to give Julie a ride. When we got to my car it turned into the Fiat I owned when I first lived in Rhode Island--again, 30 years ago. That Fiat, though it was one of my favorite-ever cars, was a constant source of trouble for me. It wouldn't start when it rained or when the temp. dipped below 20. Well it was never intended to be the State Car of Rhode Island, after all. At one time there were 3 Fiats at the duplex I lived in (which was more like a commune, with lots of heavy drinking). ANYWAY--when we got into the car the steering wheel had been removed and was lying on the floor. I'd just had work done on the car--by Kane Motorcars, which was the place I first took my car to. They were one of the few places that did work on foreign cars, but mostly they worked on Jaguars, Mercedeses and really high-end cars. So there I was, no steering wheel. Couldn't get home or to work.
We were parked at the really fancy inn, so we went inside. They only had one rotary dial phone line but the good-looking and snooty man who owned the inn said I could use it. It was almost 5, which was when Kane would close, and I wanted to call them right away to come fix my car. Julie and I were stranded. I looked through the phone book a whole bunch of times, and sometimes I found the phone number but couldn't write it down correctly, or other times I couldn't find the K's in the book. Whenever I'd get the number (which was written down on the tiniest scrap of paper) the phone line wouldn't be free. The phone, meanwhile was just like the phone in my grandfather's entryway. Don't you love dreams?
So I struggled, fretted and was terribly upset. The owner was patient for a while (I must have tried the phone 20 times, mostly just interrupting other staff members using the phone to talk to each other: oh, the magic of technology). Finally he gave Julie and me some money as well as telling us we could each have 2 free drinks at the bar. By now it was after 5 but I was still determined to get in touch with Kane. On and on this went. I finally woke up with the alarm, and smiled at my inner self. So many details added to the dream based on what's been happening to me and what I've been thinking of, plus add the obvious frustration and obstacles I face. The phone part came from recent picturing of my grandfather's house, focusing on the desk in the entryway. There was one of those old-fashioned address books, the kind that was shaped like a steno pad, where you moved the indicator to the the letter you wanted and it popped open. I'm sure not very many remember those, but we used to play and play with it.
The car stuff? Well, all my adult life, since 1975 I have been totally dependent on my car. To get to work (I've always commuted at least half an hour), to live my life--I've never lived in a city or town, always far from commercial centers. Boy that makes me realize how I've set up my life, and what my obvious priority has been: no neighbors. I've finally achieved that, but there are 2 houses being built on my road, mostly for summer habitation, but they're expensive, year-round homes. I feel encroached upon. And that doesn't even include the trucks which insist on using my driveway, even moving the sawhorse I put in the middle of it to block their entrance.
So there you have it, in too-great detail. The other night I dreamed about traveling with my mother and being in a huge airport that turned into a huge mall, and not being able to find her. Anxious much? Apparently. I'm worried about my mental state: am I sad because my brother died, or do I keep crying because I'm depressed, and thus think of my brother's death all the time? I'm in an extremely obsessive state right now, which is just awful. I won't go into details, but just know that it's not like anything a normal person experiences. It's not healthy, and it's governing my life right now. I'm having a really hard time, but am doing what I can to fix this.
And today I'm the facilitator for a Work Flow Meeting for our staff. We're supposed to bring up issues that are inter-departmental and hash out solutions to problems. We have a box, like a suggestion box, in which people are to put their written issues and "desired outcomes." We have one issue that's been submitted. Apparently no one has anything that's bothering them--as if.
After that I have to write the revisions to the nightmare that is the Lost Items Procedures. I met with the director yesterday and of course she had lots of additions to it. Most of her stuff was good, but it's a pain to have to re-do the whole thing. She wants it reformatted, as well. Hey, I just do as I'm told.
This morning I had exact change when I got my coffee (I've been giving them $2 so I can get quarters in change--for the laundromat) and I remembered that the clerk's name is Barbara. I felt very proud of myself. Plus my next cup of coffee is the 7th one on my Coffee Club card, and is thus free. I've joined the ranks of people who leave their cards at the store, with their names on the card. I always thought this was the epitome of laziness, but now it makes me feel like part of a community. Apparently it doesn't take much to make me feel that way.
Yesterday I had lunch with my close friend Barb. She's one of the favorite friends I've ever had in my life, and we can go for months without talking to each other but pick up our close relationship right away. We've been friends since her daughter was 1 1/2 years old and Kristin is now a sophomore in college. Yikes. I remember vividly when her son was born and he's now a senior in high school. Double Yikes.
And now another cup of coffee so that I will talk really, really fast at the meeting. Watch out world!
I had a classic anxiety dream last night, one which made me laugh when I woke up. My colleague and good friend Julie and I had been at a library program with consultants from THE STATE (our ultimate bosses), and I think my boss was Mrs. Giusti (joosty). Mrs. Giusti was the Head of the Reference Dept. at the Providence Public Library, where I worked from 1977 to 1984. That was nearly 30 years ago. Anyway, I worked for her for a year before being promoted to Head of Cataloging, and didn't do very well. She ran a tight ship and was near the end of her career. She was never on desk. Being on the desk was really hard--we had homeless, mentally ill patrons, lots of bar bets, lots of homework questions (the culinary arts school of Johnson & Wales was in its infancy and those students had no library so they'd come in, wearing their chef's outfits and tell us "I have to write a 10-page paper on basil--what books do you have on that?" This was before the days of the Internet, so all we had were print sources. It wasn't fun to serve them), people who wanted us to do various tasks for them so they could come in and pick up the stuff. The phone rang constantly (PPL is the 2nd largest library in New England, with 600,000 volumes). Anyway, Mrs. Giusti didn't do much and there she was in my dream last night.
So after the program, which ended at 1:00 in the afternoon, we had the choice of going home or going back to work. I elected to drive back to work (we were far from work). I was going to give Julie a ride. When we got to my car it turned into the Fiat I owned when I first lived in Rhode Island--again, 30 years ago. That Fiat, though it was one of my favorite-ever cars, was a constant source of trouble for me. It wouldn't start when it rained or when the temp. dipped below 20. Well it was never intended to be the State Car of Rhode Island, after all. At one time there were 3 Fiats at the duplex I lived in (which was more like a commune, with lots of heavy drinking). ANYWAY--when we got into the car the steering wheel had been removed and was lying on the floor. I'd just had work done on the car--by Kane Motorcars, which was the place I first took my car to. They were one of the few places that did work on foreign cars, but mostly they worked on Jaguars, Mercedeses and really high-end cars. So there I was, no steering wheel. Couldn't get home or to work.
We were parked at the really fancy inn, so we went inside. They only had one rotary dial phone line but the good-looking and snooty man who owned the inn said I could use it. It was almost 5, which was when Kane would close, and I wanted to call them right away to come fix my car. Julie and I were stranded. I looked through the phone book a whole bunch of times, and sometimes I found the phone number but couldn't write it down correctly, or other times I couldn't find the K's in the book. Whenever I'd get the number (which was written down on the tiniest scrap of paper) the phone line wouldn't be free. The phone, meanwhile was just like the phone in my grandfather's entryway. Don't you love dreams?
So I struggled, fretted and was terribly upset. The owner was patient for a while (I must have tried the phone 20 times, mostly just interrupting other staff members using the phone to talk to each other: oh, the magic of technology). Finally he gave Julie and me some money as well as telling us we could each have 2 free drinks at the bar. By now it was after 5 but I was still determined to get in touch with Kane. On and on this went. I finally woke up with the alarm, and smiled at my inner self. So many details added to the dream based on what's been happening to me and what I've been thinking of, plus add the obvious frustration and obstacles I face. The phone part came from recent picturing of my grandfather's house, focusing on the desk in the entryway. There was one of those old-fashioned address books, the kind that was shaped like a steno pad, where you moved the indicator to the the letter you wanted and it popped open. I'm sure not very many remember those, but we used to play and play with it.
The car stuff? Well, all my adult life, since 1975 I have been totally dependent on my car. To get to work (I've always commuted at least half an hour), to live my life--I've never lived in a city or town, always far from commercial centers. Boy that makes me realize how I've set up my life, and what my obvious priority has been: no neighbors. I've finally achieved that, but there are 2 houses being built on my road, mostly for summer habitation, but they're expensive, year-round homes. I feel encroached upon. And that doesn't even include the trucks which insist on using my driveway, even moving the sawhorse I put in the middle of it to block their entrance.
So there you have it, in too-great detail. The other night I dreamed about traveling with my mother and being in a huge airport that turned into a huge mall, and not being able to find her. Anxious much? Apparently. I'm worried about my mental state: am I sad because my brother died, or do I keep crying because I'm depressed, and thus think of my brother's death all the time? I'm in an extremely obsessive state right now, which is just awful. I won't go into details, but just know that it's not like anything a normal person experiences. It's not healthy, and it's governing my life right now. I'm having a really hard time, but am doing what I can to fix this.
And today I'm the facilitator for a Work Flow Meeting for our staff. We're supposed to bring up issues that are inter-departmental and hash out solutions to problems. We have a box, like a suggestion box, in which people are to put their written issues and "desired outcomes." We have one issue that's been submitted. Apparently no one has anything that's bothering them--as if.
After that I have to write the revisions to the nightmare that is the Lost Items Procedures. I met with the director yesterday and of course she had lots of additions to it. Most of her stuff was good, but it's a pain to have to re-do the whole thing. She wants it reformatted, as well. Hey, I just do as I'm told.
This morning I had exact change when I got my coffee (I've been giving them $2 so I can get quarters in change--for the laundromat) and I remembered that the clerk's name is Barbara. I felt very proud of myself. Plus my next cup of coffee is the 7th one on my Coffee Club card, and is thus free. I've joined the ranks of people who leave their cards at the store, with their names on the card. I always thought this was the epitome of laziness, but now it makes me feel like part of a community. Apparently it doesn't take much to make me feel that way.
Yesterday I had lunch with my close friend Barb. She's one of the favorite friends I've ever had in my life, and we can go for months without talking to each other but pick up our close relationship right away. We've been friends since her daughter was 1 1/2 years old and Kristin is now a sophomore in college. Yikes. I remember vividly when her son was born and he's now a senior in high school. Double Yikes.
And now another cup of coffee so that I will talk really, really fast at the meeting. Watch out world!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Truthiness
I'm writing an article on Wikipedia for our newsletter, and surfed around Wikiquote as well. The Truthifications made me really, really laugh: like this one--
"In the future you'll be able to inject this program directly into your eyeballs. The future is now! This is The Colbert Report!"
http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/The_Colbert_Report
and then there's Dan Quayle:
"The question is: Are we going to go forward to tomorrow, or past to the back?"
I'm writing an article on Wikipedia for our newsletter, and surfed around Wikiquote as well. The Truthifications made me really, really laugh: like this one--
"In the future you'll be able to inject this program directly into your eyeballs. The future is now! This is The Colbert Report!"
http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/The_Colbert_Report
and then there's Dan Quayle:
"The question is: Are we going to go forward to tomorrow, or past to the back?"
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Check this out:
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/fold.php
I saw this on tv the other day and couldn't figure it out. This video is much slower and the woman gives a much better demonstration.
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/fold.php
I saw this on tv the other day and couldn't figure it out. This video is much slower and the woman gives a much better demonstration.
Death toll rises
And the carnage in my kitchen continues. The trap line is really working: body count this morning was 2. I may sound cruel as I continue with this mousicide, but I really don't want them pooping on my counter and poking around in my pantry. Last winter they ate an entire bag of lentils before I even noticed. So call me a cold-hearted killer, but this is a fall ritual at my house. When it gets cold the mice come inside. I know I'll never be able to kill them all, but I'd like to cut down on the population. If I weren't allergic to cats, if I didn't have 2 dogs who love to chase cats (a lot) and if I didn't think a cat would be killed by a coyote, owl or fisher, then I might consider getting one.
When I walked down the path my brother made for me, from my house to the road below it, I discovered human poop in the middle of the path. GROSS!!! There's a house being built below my house so of course I assumed it came from one of the workers. I called the contractor, who lives on the other side of the lake, and he was really offended (after being grossed out). His men would never do something like that, and they've already put in the septic system so they have a toilet to use on site. Well, how embarrassed was I! I felt terrible and sorry that I had called--fell all over myself apologizing. I didn't know he was such a conscientious neighbor. I guess it's better to have called from my perspective, rather than obsess and think poorly of him. I think we left things ok but I was still sorry I'd called.
I also called the man I had hoped would agree to be my plowman this winter. No, he doesn't want to--he lives too far away. But he's such a wonderful man that he said if I ever get in a bind he'll come and plow me out. I've just encountered so many nice people lately, it makes me feel really good about my neighborhood. And most of them are men, which is even better, I think.
But of course that leaves me still searching for a plow man. Guess I'll have to put the word out. I'd like to call the contractor back because I think he could probably come up with someone, but I'm too embarrassed so will wait before calling (if I call at all).
I'm cataloging the Robert Louis Stevenson collection again. The woman who works with it sent back a bunch of stuff I'd done before, with corrections like publisher's names I'd spelled wrong. Yikes, who would have thought she'd check out every single word in the record. So now it's taking me a much longer time to do the work because I have to type more slowly and read everything over at least once. I suppose that could be called "doing my job."
And the carnage in my kitchen continues. The trap line is really working: body count this morning was 2. I may sound cruel as I continue with this mousicide, but I really don't want them pooping on my counter and poking around in my pantry. Last winter they ate an entire bag of lentils before I even noticed. So call me a cold-hearted killer, but this is a fall ritual at my house. When it gets cold the mice come inside. I know I'll never be able to kill them all, but I'd like to cut down on the population. If I weren't allergic to cats, if I didn't have 2 dogs who love to chase cats (a lot) and if I didn't think a cat would be killed by a coyote, owl or fisher, then I might consider getting one.
When I walked down the path my brother made for me, from my house to the road below it, I discovered human poop in the middle of the path. GROSS!!! There's a house being built below my house so of course I assumed it came from one of the workers. I called the contractor, who lives on the other side of the lake, and he was really offended (after being grossed out). His men would never do something like that, and they've already put in the septic system so they have a toilet to use on site. Well, how embarrassed was I! I felt terrible and sorry that I had called--fell all over myself apologizing. I didn't know he was such a conscientious neighbor. I guess it's better to have called from my perspective, rather than obsess and think poorly of him. I think we left things ok but I was still sorry I'd called.
I also called the man I had hoped would agree to be my plowman this winter. No, he doesn't want to--he lives too far away. But he's such a wonderful man that he said if I ever get in a bind he'll come and plow me out. I've just encountered so many nice people lately, it makes me feel really good about my neighborhood. And most of them are men, which is even better, I think.
But of course that leaves me still searching for a plow man. Guess I'll have to put the word out. I'd like to call the contractor back because I think he could probably come up with someone, but I'm too embarrassed so will wait before calling (if I call at all).
I'm cataloging the Robert Louis Stevenson collection again. The woman who works with it sent back a bunch of stuff I'd done before, with corrections like publisher's names I'd spelled wrong. Yikes, who would have thought she'd check out every single word in the record. So now it's taking me a much longer time to do the work because I have to type more slowly and read everything over at least once. I suppose that could be called "doing my job."
Camp road
Went for a walk to camp at 5:30 last night. It was really pretty, in an almost-November way. Just a little color left and lots of leaves on the ground. This is the road between my house and camp.
Beech tree
This is what a lot of the forest looks like now--pretty much only the beech trees are clinging to their leaves. They ultimately turn brown and lots of them stay on the trees throughout winter. On winter days when there's just a slight breeze you can hear the leaves rattle--sometimes it's the only sound you hear.
Standing alone
Most of the trees are bare, but once in a while you come across a late bloomer. This is a maple leaf that can't decide whether to be yellow or red. It finally gave up and dropped to the ground
The Spaulding Oak
This is an oak tree that my father planted from an acorn he brought from RI in the late 70's. It's now just stump shoots because my mother cut it down several years ago (it was encroaching on the rock we like to picnic on). Stubbornly, the tree continues to grow. Oaks are rare in my neighborhood; this may be the only one.
Champion swimmer
Chances couldn't resist an opportunity for a swim. At first Tess wasn't interested, but after Chances paddled around she succumbed to peer pressure and took a quick dip.
Monday, October 16, 2006
photos
This is what I look at while I'm at work. These are posted right next to my monitor, so all I have to do is glance to the right and there are my sister, my mother, my niece, my dogs and my home. Sometimes I just stare at them and it makes me feel much better.
Back to normal
--whatever that is. Linda and Erd. left on Sunday, and as much as I hate to see them leave it's nice to have my life back. I guess I was socially exhausted because yesterday afternoon I lay on the couch with the dogs and watched pointless TV for hours. And hours. Saturday I watched a John Cusack film called Ice Harvest, and I started watching The Constant Gardner, but since I knew how things were going to go with it I quit less than half way through. Last night I watched a film called Elephant on HBO. I remember hearing about it a while ago, hearing it was a very disturbing film. It's about 2 high school students who go to their high school and shoot a bunch of people. It was made after Columbine and seems to have been modeled on the actual event a whole lot. It was tragic to see, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it to anyone. Lots of camera following high school students walk through the halls--like, watching one student walk for about 10 minutes (from behind) through the whole building. This was setting the tone, I guess, but it dragged on that's for sure.
And now I'm back in my cubicle, getting ready to write a long document on procedures for handling lost items. Ohmygod we've been working on this for weeks and I already wrote one set of procedures, but we had a meeting last week and the director made a bunch of changes and instructed me to re-write the whole thing. I've put it off successfully so far but Friday she asked me how it was coming along. "Fine," I smiled. Yeah, fine, my notes are buried somewhere on my desk and this morning's task is to dig them out and try to make sense of them. The document will no doubt be severely edited.
We had our first snow on Saturday, just a little for the effect and it didn't stick to the ground except in the higher mountains. Yesterday we had little round balls of ice that are called something different than hail (technically) but that didn't last long. Mostly yesterday was just a cloudy and pretty cold day. I should have been outside doing things on Saturday, when it was 50 and not too bad, but I'm afraid my mental state precludes anything like that. I did put seed on the bird feeder platform, having seen a chickadee poking around on it the other day. No takers so far, though.
I've started my annual Mouse Massacre and have been battling with one very clever mouse. I caught one, then set a trap every night for about 5 nights. Each morning the peanut butter was licked off and the trap was empty and clean and untripped. Finally last night I'd had it so I set a trap line of 3 traps, across the kitchen counter and ending on the stove. SUCCESS! First I saw a clean empty trap, got my dander up, then I looked absent mindedly at the stove and YUCKA PUCKA there were 2 beady eyes staring at me from the mouse who got SLAMMED in the trap. At least he was dead, very dead. I like this king of trap because it kills them instantly. This time I threw the body in my burn barrel instead of the woods so Tess can't get it. She followed me to the barrel, nose in the air sniffing at the little corpse. Funny dog.
Tess The Bog Dog got a ride home from the bog on Saturday from a woman who said she was trying to teach her grandchildren (who were in the car) "to do nice things." I thanked her profusely and pretended it was the first time Tess had ever run off to the bog. As she got back in the car I heard her tell the kids "See? She was very happy that we did such a good thing." I like to think that Tess and I are improving the world in some small way, this time by example. Chances, meanwhile, shows no interest in improving society or even being part of it very much. Mostly she's interested in what she can scrounge for when I'm out of the house. This weekend it was freeze-dried brine shrimp I'd bought as a special treat for the fish. Blech.
I got 2 new fish. One of the tetras got its tail stuck in the filter and died so I decided to get 2 leopard danios. They're very pretty and zip around the tank, but they have these really long, flowing fins and tails that (I think) look stoopid.
This weekend was pretty much the last of the season as far as company goes. Fred is still in camp and is hosting Ken and me for Weds. night dinner, but this will be his swan song. I still have to close up the boat house and put my kayak away, then shut off the power at camp. I'm not sure why I keep putting it off. I suspect laziness and depression are the reasons, nothing deeper than that, like refusing to end the season blahblahblah. Just inertia.
And on to lost items.
--whatever that is. Linda and Erd. left on Sunday, and as much as I hate to see them leave it's nice to have my life back. I guess I was socially exhausted because yesterday afternoon I lay on the couch with the dogs and watched pointless TV for hours. And hours. Saturday I watched a John Cusack film called Ice Harvest, and I started watching The Constant Gardner, but since I knew how things were going to go with it I quit less than half way through. Last night I watched a film called Elephant on HBO. I remember hearing about it a while ago, hearing it was a very disturbing film. It's about 2 high school students who go to their high school and shoot a bunch of people. It was made after Columbine and seems to have been modeled on the actual event a whole lot. It was tragic to see, and I'm not sure I'd recommend it to anyone. Lots of camera following high school students walk through the halls--like, watching one student walk for about 10 minutes (from behind) through the whole building. This was setting the tone, I guess, but it dragged on that's for sure.
And now I'm back in my cubicle, getting ready to write a long document on procedures for handling lost items. Ohmygod we've been working on this for weeks and I already wrote one set of procedures, but we had a meeting last week and the director made a bunch of changes and instructed me to re-write the whole thing. I've put it off successfully so far but Friday she asked me how it was coming along. "Fine," I smiled. Yeah, fine, my notes are buried somewhere on my desk and this morning's task is to dig them out and try to make sense of them. The document will no doubt be severely edited.
We had our first snow on Saturday, just a little for the effect and it didn't stick to the ground except in the higher mountains. Yesterday we had little round balls of ice that are called something different than hail (technically) but that didn't last long. Mostly yesterday was just a cloudy and pretty cold day. I should have been outside doing things on Saturday, when it was 50 and not too bad, but I'm afraid my mental state precludes anything like that. I did put seed on the bird feeder platform, having seen a chickadee poking around on it the other day. No takers so far, though.
I've started my annual Mouse Massacre and have been battling with one very clever mouse. I caught one, then set a trap every night for about 5 nights. Each morning the peanut butter was licked off and the trap was empty and clean and untripped. Finally last night I'd had it so I set a trap line of 3 traps, across the kitchen counter and ending on the stove. SUCCESS! First I saw a clean empty trap, got my dander up, then I looked absent mindedly at the stove and YUCKA PUCKA there were 2 beady eyes staring at me from the mouse who got SLAMMED in the trap. At least he was dead, very dead. I like this king of trap because it kills them instantly. This time I threw the body in my burn barrel instead of the woods so Tess can't get it. She followed me to the barrel, nose in the air sniffing at the little corpse. Funny dog.
Tess The Bog Dog got a ride home from the bog on Saturday from a woman who said she was trying to teach her grandchildren (who were in the car) "to do nice things." I thanked her profusely and pretended it was the first time Tess had ever run off to the bog. As she got back in the car I heard her tell the kids "See? She was very happy that we did such a good thing." I like to think that Tess and I are improving the world in some small way, this time by example. Chances, meanwhile, shows no interest in improving society or even being part of it very much. Mostly she's interested in what she can scrounge for when I'm out of the house. This weekend it was freeze-dried brine shrimp I'd bought as a special treat for the fish. Blech.
I got 2 new fish. One of the tetras got its tail stuck in the filter and died so I decided to get 2 leopard danios. They're very pretty and zip around the tank, but they have these really long, flowing fins and tails that (I think) look stoopid.
This weekend was pretty much the last of the season as far as company goes. Fred is still in camp and is hosting Ken and me for Weds. night dinner, but this will be his swan song. I still have to close up the boat house and put my kayak away, then shut off the power at camp. I'm not sure why I keep putting it off. I suspect laziness and depression are the reasons, nothing deeper than that, like refusing to end the season blahblahblah. Just inertia.
And on to lost items.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Quiet desperation
is sort of what I'm feeling these days. I'm having a lot of trouble with my OCD and we're trying to treat it but so far we've made only slight progress. I find this really depressing and am frustrated. Sometimes I feel real despair. Other times, though I enjoy my life and savor the good things--it's just that those events are kind of rare right now.
I usually love autumn, the activities of the trees and birds, the crescendo that finally leads to the dull landscape of November. Then I like November, you can see way into the forest and realize that you've missed being able to do that. The deer are everywhere this year, which is cheering in ways. There are 2 girls hanging around Fred's road and they're getting pretty bold. The deer around my house are a little shier but they come pretty close to the house, based on the tracks they leave. Looks as if one of them is pretty big.
I went out for dinner with Fred, Linda and Erdvilas last night and it just didn't turn out well. Food was fine, conversation all right but at the end of the evening something happened that just bothered me a whole lot and I got cross. I don't like having that reaction, I want to be one of those people who goes with the flow more. When you're obsessive, though, these things just stick in your mind and you can't get rid of them. Last night I swore I would never repeat the restaurant experience with that group. This morning I feel more charitable, but still rankled. I'll get over it: I have to, these people are good friends whom I cherish.
Don't know what the weekend holds for me. Linda & Erdvilas went to the boat house yesterday to retrieve something of theirs left after the party. They found napkins scattered all over and a roll of paper towel unraveled all over the porch, and very kindly cleaned it all up. Even boxed up all my liquor and took it to the safety of Linda's porch. They couldn't believe I would leave all those bottles unattended and unlocked. Well that's how trusting I am. Meanwhile someone smashed the cinder block I had placed as a step for Liza to get up on the rock we often picnic on next to the boat house. What is wrong with people? Why would someone do that?
I seem to be having a running argument with invisible truckers who insist in turning around in my driveway, rutting it up. I put a sawhorse in the middle of it but last night the sawhorse had been moved and there were fresh tracks. Again--what's wrong with people? I nailed a POSTED sign to the sawhorse and felt like a jerk. Obsession is just awful.
Lots of catching up work today. I really need to put together a book order but I don't even feel like doing that. How pathetic is it when you'd rather catalog RL Stevenson's works than order brand new, interesting books?
is sort of what I'm feeling these days. I'm having a lot of trouble with my OCD and we're trying to treat it but so far we've made only slight progress. I find this really depressing and am frustrated. Sometimes I feel real despair. Other times, though I enjoy my life and savor the good things--it's just that those events are kind of rare right now.
I usually love autumn, the activities of the trees and birds, the crescendo that finally leads to the dull landscape of November. Then I like November, you can see way into the forest and realize that you've missed being able to do that. The deer are everywhere this year, which is cheering in ways. There are 2 girls hanging around Fred's road and they're getting pretty bold. The deer around my house are a little shier but they come pretty close to the house, based on the tracks they leave. Looks as if one of them is pretty big.
I went out for dinner with Fred, Linda and Erdvilas last night and it just didn't turn out well. Food was fine, conversation all right but at the end of the evening something happened that just bothered me a whole lot and I got cross. I don't like having that reaction, I want to be one of those people who goes with the flow more. When you're obsessive, though, these things just stick in your mind and you can't get rid of them. Last night I swore I would never repeat the restaurant experience with that group. This morning I feel more charitable, but still rankled. I'll get over it: I have to, these people are good friends whom I cherish.
Don't know what the weekend holds for me. Linda & Erdvilas went to the boat house yesterday to retrieve something of theirs left after the party. They found napkins scattered all over and a roll of paper towel unraveled all over the porch, and very kindly cleaned it all up. Even boxed up all my liquor and took it to the safety of Linda's porch. They couldn't believe I would leave all those bottles unattended and unlocked. Well that's how trusting I am. Meanwhile someone smashed the cinder block I had placed as a step for Liza to get up on the rock we often picnic on next to the boat house. What is wrong with people? Why would someone do that?
I seem to be having a running argument with invisible truckers who insist in turning around in my driveway, rutting it up. I put a sawhorse in the middle of it but last night the sawhorse had been moved and there were fresh tracks. Again--what's wrong with people? I nailed a POSTED sign to the sawhorse and felt like a jerk. Obsession is just awful.
Lots of catching up work today. I really need to put together a book order but I don't even feel like doing that. How pathetic is it when you'd rather catalog RL Stevenson's works than order brand new, interesting books?
Happy Halloween
This is what Halloween looks like in the North Country. I'm not sure what a giant orange cat has to do with the holiday, but these people love this holiday. Every year their lawn has a few more things on it. When I go by in the morning, though, all the inflated and enthusiastic animals are nothing but an exhausted puddle of plastic.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
WHEW!
Columbus Day weekend is almost the busiest weekend of the year in my neighborhood. Lots of great friends and lots of fantastic food (and drink). Friday night I had dinner with the Holts and their builder. Bob the Builder is a staunch Democrat and was thrilled to have an audience with a Democratic Congressman. Lots of heated ramblings about what's wrong with Congress and the B. Administration, individual by individual. It was nice to see Rush and Annie, and their house is really pretty. I'll get pictures soon.
Friday morning my pump was running when I got up, and no water came out of the faucets. This means BIG TROUBLE. I spent the weekend without running water, which seems to be my natural state these days. I went to Linda's camp Saturday afternoon to take a shower but she'd shut off the hot water heater in September so it was the coldest shower I've ever taken. Stand next to the shower and dip the appropriate body parts under the water. It was so cold I got a headache when I washed my hair.
Saturday evening I had cocktails, which turned into dinner with friends from Boston who bought a camp a few (maybe five) years ago. They are the most enthusiastic members of our group right now, and they have a wonderful camp (the Peabody's camp, to those in the know).
After dinner Saturday I went back to Linda's (having turned on the water heater) and built a fire so it would be warm and cheery when Linda and Erdvilas arrived. Mission accomplished, and Linda and I had a great visit. Too much to drink, unfortunately and Sunday morning I felt really crummy.
The weather was gorgeous all weekend, sunny and warm. Sunday was the Big Day. My cocktail party on the boat house porch at 5, followed by Thanksgiving Dinner at Linda's at 6:30. All went swimmingly. There were 14 at dinner, and about 12 at my party. I was impressed by how many different kinds of liquor I could gather from my larder--we had just about everything. Dinner was wonderful, as usual. Good turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Monday was another sterling day. I got to sit on my deck and read every morning over the weekend. I chased Tess into the boardwalk twice, which continued my exercise regime. I tried tying her up twice but each time she surreptitiously chewed the rope and flew off to the bog ("My people are calling for me--they NEED me!"). I didn't do much during the day, relaxed and watched TV. Oh, I can do that for an amazing amount of time.
Monday night it was back to Linda's--she had a campfire for us to sit around. That night I called my plumber and he said he could come first thing Tuesday morning. He's great: he feels that, when someone has no water that constitutes and emergency.
Plumber man came Tuesday and man did I learn a lot about pumps, pipes and wells. Turns out not only had the pump lost its prime but the line from the house to the well was dry too. This is a huge deal, since the line is about 400 feet long and buried 6' underground. John poured gallon after gallon down the pipe, waiting each time for air to replace water in the pipe. I lay on my stomach, talked and watched what he was doing in the hole that is my cellar. I had to make two water runs; we used up all we had right away. Finally, 14 gallons later he decided to try the pump. It sucked air for a long time, then a little water and air, and finally ***MIRACLE*** it sucked water from the well. In the meantime he measured how much water I have in my well (and clearly did not think that was enough to support me) and recorded it on the well tile. This whole exercise took 3 hours of patient and charming work. He is great and is so nice to me. It's amazing what a difference it makes when you can turn on a faucet and have water come out, that's just such a cheerful activity. Now I will continue to conserve water as I have been doing for weeks. I'm getting good at it, way good at it.
In my mail was a letter addressed to Tess the Bog Dog. It was from a couple in Texas who met Tess on the boardwalk. They included a photo of Tess with the woman, and a picture of the man standing somewhere in Texas. They got my address from the tag Tess wears all the time, which has her name, address and phone number on it. Anyway, these people said if I'm ever near Austin I should give them a call. Or maybe that part was intended for Tess, who knows. They said their walk with Tess was the highlight of their trip to the Adirondacks. What the heck else did they do?
Tuesday night I had dinner at Linda's with Fred (turkey soup, of course) and Bill and a friend stopped by. It just doesn't take much to have a party in my neighborhood--especially when Linda's in camp. That was a good visit and I went home at a reasonable hour.
Last night was dinner with Ken (Weds., of course). I had invited Linda & E to join us and made meatloaf. Finally found a good recipe online, one worth using again. Ken likes having a crowd like that, and Fred joined us on his way home from Elizabethtown, where he'd been at a high school soccer game. All very cheery and nice--and not too much to drink, home at 8:15, in time to watch TV and relax with the dogs.
Today I'm working until 5 and will do my laundry at some point during the day. Laundromat across the street is good, has huge washers. Washing clothes at a laundromat isn't so bad when you have a dryer at home. Only takes about half an hour or so, and you can watch the other people or read.
There is a new group of people in camp now, the male friends who come for Extreme Workfest are here with their wives. It's not supposed to be very nice for the next few days, colder and rainy. It was really warm this morning, though, and slightly damp. Really nice Indian summer day. Ken says you can't have Indian summer until you've had a killing frost. We've come close enough, down to 27 on Sat. morning. Lots of frost and once time my windshield wipers were stuck to the windshield with ice. Must find my windshield scraper.
Tonight I hope to walk the bog, must get back in the habit of doing that. I missed Monday night's walk around Mirror Lake so I'm already behind in my walking. I took a look at the South Beach diet and am trying to follow the basic tenets of it. Based on the glycemic index: no sugar, only certain carbs because other ones have sugar in them, combine carbs with either fiber or oil to slow down the production of insulin. It's not hard but I shouldn't drink apple cider because it's high in fructose. I love fresh cider but would really like to lose weight so will abstain. It's amazingly hard to give up white-floured foods. The sugar part isn't too bad if I use artificial sweeteners in my coffee and iced tea (blech). Let's see where this takes us.
And now...the Robert Louis Stevenson Collection from Saranac Lake. Yesterday I cataloged a map, 2 pamphlets and a collection of typewritten sheets for Plattsburgh Public. Original cataloging, had to consult both the list of subject headings and the cataloging manual. Yikes.
Columbus Day weekend is almost the busiest weekend of the year in my neighborhood. Lots of great friends and lots of fantastic food (and drink). Friday night I had dinner with the Holts and their builder. Bob the Builder is a staunch Democrat and was thrilled to have an audience with a Democratic Congressman. Lots of heated ramblings about what's wrong with Congress and the B. Administration, individual by individual. It was nice to see Rush and Annie, and their house is really pretty. I'll get pictures soon.
Friday morning my pump was running when I got up, and no water came out of the faucets. This means BIG TROUBLE. I spent the weekend without running water, which seems to be my natural state these days. I went to Linda's camp Saturday afternoon to take a shower but she'd shut off the hot water heater in September so it was the coldest shower I've ever taken. Stand next to the shower and dip the appropriate body parts under the water. It was so cold I got a headache when I washed my hair.
Saturday evening I had cocktails, which turned into dinner with friends from Boston who bought a camp a few (maybe five) years ago. They are the most enthusiastic members of our group right now, and they have a wonderful camp (the Peabody's camp, to those in the know).
After dinner Saturday I went back to Linda's (having turned on the water heater) and built a fire so it would be warm and cheery when Linda and Erdvilas arrived. Mission accomplished, and Linda and I had a great visit. Too much to drink, unfortunately and Sunday morning I felt really crummy.
The weather was gorgeous all weekend, sunny and warm. Sunday was the Big Day. My cocktail party on the boat house porch at 5, followed by Thanksgiving Dinner at Linda's at 6:30. All went swimmingly. There were 14 at dinner, and about 12 at my party. I was impressed by how many different kinds of liquor I could gather from my larder--we had just about everything. Dinner was wonderful, as usual. Good turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Monday was another sterling day. I got to sit on my deck and read every morning over the weekend. I chased Tess into the boardwalk twice, which continued my exercise regime. I tried tying her up twice but each time she surreptitiously chewed the rope and flew off to the bog ("My people are calling for me--they NEED me!"). I didn't do much during the day, relaxed and watched TV. Oh, I can do that for an amazing amount of time.
Monday night it was back to Linda's--she had a campfire for us to sit around. That night I called my plumber and he said he could come first thing Tuesday morning. He's great: he feels that, when someone has no water that constitutes and emergency.
Plumber man came Tuesday and man did I learn a lot about pumps, pipes and wells. Turns out not only had the pump lost its prime but the line from the house to the well was dry too. This is a huge deal, since the line is about 400 feet long and buried 6' underground. John poured gallon after gallon down the pipe, waiting each time for air to replace water in the pipe. I lay on my stomach, talked and watched what he was doing in the hole that is my cellar. I had to make two water runs; we used up all we had right away. Finally, 14 gallons later he decided to try the pump. It sucked air for a long time, then a little water and air, and finally ***MIRACLE*** it sucked water from the well. In the meantime he measured how much water I have in my well (and clearly did not think that was enough to support me) and recorded it on the well tile. This whole exercise took 3 hours of patient and charming work. He is great and is so nice to me. It's amazing what a difference it makes when you can turn on a faucet and have water come out, that's just such a cheerful activity. Now I will continue to conserve water as I have been doing for weeks. I'm getting good at it, way good at it.
In my mail was a letter addressed to Tess the Bog Dog. It was from a couple in Texas who met Tess on the boardwalk. They included a photo of Tess with the woman, and a picture of the man standing somewhere in Texas. They got my address from the tag Tess wears all the time, which has her name, address and phone number on it. Anyway, these people said if I'm ever near Austin I should give them a call. Or maybe that part was intended for Tess, who knows. They said their walk with Tess was the highlight of their trip to the Adirondacks. What the heck else did they do?
Tuesday night I had dinner at Linda's with Fred (turkey soup, of course) and Bill and a friend stopped by. It just doesn't take much to have a party in my neighborhood--especially when Linda's in camp. That was a good visit and I went home at a reasonable hour.
Last night was dinner with Ken (Weds., of course). I had invited Linda & E to join us and made meatloaf. Finally found a good recipe online, one worth using again. Ken likes having a crowd like that, and Fred joined us on his way home from Elizabethtown, where he'd been at a high school soccer game. All very cheery and nice--and not too much to drink, home at 8:15, in time to watch TV and relax with the dogs.
Today I'm working until 5 and will do my laundry at some point during the day. Laundromat across the street is good, has huge washers. Washing clothes at a laundromat isn't so bad when you have a dryer at home. Only takes about half an hour or so, and you can watch the other people or read.
There is a new group of people in camp now, the male friends who come for Extreme Workfest are here with their wives. It's not supposed to be very nice for the next few days, colder and rainy. It was really warm this morning, though, and slightly damp. Really nice Indian summer day. Ken says you can't have Indian summer until you've had a killing frost. We've come close enough, down to 27 on Sat. morning. Lots of frost and once time my windshield wipers were stuck to the windshield with ice. Must find my windshield scraper.
Tonight I hope to walk the bog, must get back in the habit of doing that. I missed Monday night's walk around Mirror Lake so I'm already behind in my walking. I took a look at the South Beach diet and am trying to follow the basic tenets of it. Based on the glycemic index: no sugar, only certain carbs because other ones have sugar in them, combine carbs with either fiber or oil to slow down the production of insulin. It's not hard but I shouldn't drink apple cider because it's high in fructose. I love fresh cider but would really like to lose weight so will abstain. It's amazingly hard to give up white-floured foods. The sugar part isn't too bad if I use artificial sweeteners in my coffee and iced tea (blech). Let's see where this takes us.
And now...the Robert Louis Stevenson Collection from Saranac Lake. Yesterday I cataloged a map, 2 pamphlets and a collection of typewritten sheets for Plattsburgh Public. Original cataloging, had to consult both the list of subject headings and the cataloging manual. Yikes.
Golden shore
This is the far shore, late evening. Usually the shore is ablaze and glowing with oranges and yellows. Not so bright this year but very pretty nevertheless.
Golden mountain
Oh there's that mountain again. This was taken during the golden light of evening. The colors on the mountain are really muted this year and now are nearly gone.
Hey bartender
This is Erdvilas hard at work being the bartender for my cocktail party Sunday afternoon. He's a great mixologist and loves to make drinks for people. He'd be a lousy bartender, though because he takes a long time with each drink, carving pretty things from lemon peels. The party was a big success, as it always is. These people are big on tradition.
Festivity
Just a random sampling of the dozen or so people who were at the party. Notice how bright the far shore is!
Monarch
This is a monarch butterfly on my mum. In the fall they flock up and fly to Mexico, which is pretty amazing. When we had our sawmill, that spot was like a staging area for them and there would be hundreds together. This one seems to have been left behind by his travel companions.
Friday, October 06, 2006
en route
I took the dogs for a bog walk last night. This is how they react to the announcement that we're going to the bog. That's Flying Tess on the left.
run ahead
This is mostly what I see of Tess on bog walks. With her ears flying lik this she looks like a totally different breed.
can't stand still
Chances looks a little bored by Tess' exhuberance. Tess hates to have her picture taken, and hates even more to stand still in the bog. Too much to see, too much to smell, too much running to do. Thundering paws on the boardwalk.
6 cords
This is the 6 cords of wood I bought in May. I let it sit in a pile for months, which doesn't really help it dry--the top layers get a little dryer but the bottom layers just get wet. I had Bill's Boys stack this a while ago.
4 cords
And this is what was recently stacked. I'm not sure it will be dry enough to burn this winter, but I'm hoping it can be my March wood.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Gearing up
It's October now, September is gone. I have all of my wood stacked for winter, and embarrassingly, I did none of it myself. Since that's my usual autumn physical activity, I'm more of a slug than ever. I paid Bill's Boys to stack the 4 cords I recently bought. They came at 10 Sat. morning and 2 of them stacked the whole pile in an hour and a half. It would have taken me probably 6 hours, cut up into half hour increments, to do that. So for $40 it's done. The epitome of laziness.
While they stacked I gardened. Dug holes in impossible places for my astilbe, baptisia, lilies, hostas and bugbane (also called snakeroot, the kind with dark purple foliage). The grass is so tall and thick that I couldn't tell where the stones marking the edges of the gardens were. Reminder to self: don't let the gardens get so out of control next year. As if. If I want to see the astilbe I'll have to make an effort to control the weeds. Anyway, now that's all done and I can stop feeling guilty about the little planties.
The day was beautiful, sunny and 60's so I got to spend some time reading on the deck. I have two books I have to review for Library Journal and am reading Peter Mayle's first. It's about Provence, about which I know nothing, and to my surprise I'm enjoying it. I've read enough to write the review but keep going--I don't know why, it's pretty much the same sort of stuff as you progress through the alphabet. The other is a biography of Robert Butler and I have no idea who he is so at least I'll learn that by reading it. I also have to read our book group book, and would like to read Nick Hornby's A long way down, which sounds strange but good. Plus Nancy Thayer's newest one and a couple of others I've snagged from the new book truck. Read on! Turn the television off. I also want to knit red scarves for the project Jenica brought to my attention in her blog. Must buy yarn tonight.
On Sunday we had a nice dinner at Ken's--Fred was there and we all enjoyed each other's company a lot. This week is Bill's birthday so Fred is hosting Weds. dinner. Bill's present hasn't come yet (I didn't get around to ordering it until way too late) but he knows what it is anyway. I'll get something small so he'll have presents to unwrap.
After dinner Ken and I went to a camp below my house because when the owners drained the water they forgot to open a valve under the camp. Ken asked me to crawl under and do it for him. That was no problem, but I'm so fat that I disgusted myself. So now I'm committed to losing weight and getting more exercise.
I'm proud to announce that I started my exercise plan last night. I worked until 5 so headed right to Lake Placid to walk with my friends. Oops--there was a message on my machine at home that they weren't going to meet me there. I didn't go home, though, so I got there and no one else was around. I decided to walk anyway, much to my surprise. It was a really nice evening, perfect temperature and very peaceful. There's a path that circles the lake and I started out thinking I would walk for 15 minutes then turn around. Once I got started, though, I decided to finish out the route. That's 2.7 miles, and I did it in 50 minutes, very proudly. I'd like to keep doing this so next week hopefully we'll all be together. LP is a long way to drive to walk 2.7 miles, so I'm going to try to walk at least a mile every evening at home. The boardwalk into the bog is a mile round trip so I should be able to do that. The dogs will love it. Tess can play tour guide, since she does that walk with strangers every weekend. She was gone for a few hours on Saturday and that's where she was. I got gas later in the day and at the gas station the man at the pump next to mine asked if that was Tess in the car, because he had just come from the bog. Dubious distinction, having the dog that walks with strangers all the time.
I'm getting ready for Columbus Day weekend. Talked to Rush for a long time, turns out he will be here after all. He's pretty sure to be re-elected so isn't campaigning as much as usual this time. Big party at Linda's Sunday night, our annual Thanksgiving dinner. 17 people expected. I usually have a cocktail party on the boat house porch before the dinner so will prepare for that, depending on the weather. Linda wondered if 17 people would fit on our porch, but I think we'll just cuddle up with each other. People love to be on that porch and we've had a nice time in the past so I'll plan to do it.
And now I have lots of cataloging to do. More stuff for the Robert Louis Stevenson collection, which is very intense. I like to put on my earphones and turn up the music so I'm in my own world and can concentrate. For some reason I always seem to be interrupted during the really good songs. Or does it just feel that way--
It's October now, September is gone. I have all of my wood stacked for winter, and embarrassingly, I did none of it myself. Since that's my usual autumn physical activity, I'm more of a slug than ever. I paid Bill's Boys to stack the 4 cords I recently bought. They came at 10 Sat. morning and 2 of them stacked the whole pile in an hour and a half. It would have taken me probably 6 hours, cut up into half hour increments, to do that. So for $40 it's done. The epitome of laziness.
While they stacked I gardened. Dug holes in impossible places for my astilbe, baptisia, lilies, hostas and bugbane (also called snakeroot, the kind with dark purple foliage). The grass is so tall and thick that I couldn't tell where the stones marking the edges of the gardens were. Reminder to self: don't let the gardens get so out of control next year. As if. If I want to see the astilbe I'll have to make an effort to control the weeds. Anyway, now that's all done and I can stop feeling guilty about the little planties.
The day was beautiful, sunny and 60's so I got to spend some time reading on the deck. I have two books I have to review for Library Journal and am reading Peter Mayle's first. It's about Provence, about which I know nothing, and to my surprise I'm enjoying it. I've read enough to write the review but keep going--I don't know why, it's pretty much the same sort of stuff as you progress through the alphabet. The other is a biography of Robert Butler and I have no idea who he is so at least I'll learn that by reading it. I also have to read our book group book, and would like to read Nick Hornby's A long way down, which sounds strange but good. Plus Nancy Thayer's newest one and a couple of others I've snagged from the new book truck. Read on! Turn the television off. I also want to knit red scarves for the project Jenica brought to my attention in her blog. Must buy yarn tonight.
On Sunday we had a nice dinner at Ken's--Fred was there and we all enjoyed each other's company a lot. This week is Bill's birthday so Fred is hosting Weds. dinner. Bill's present hasn't come yet (I didn't get around to ordering it until way too late) but he knows what it is anyway. I'll get something small so he'll have presents to unwrap.
After dinner Ken and I went to a camp below my house because when the owners drained the water they forgot to open a valve under the camp. Ken asked me to crawl under and do it for him. That was no problem, but I'm so fat that I disgusted myself. So now I'm committed to losing weight and getting more exercise.
I'm proud to announce that I started my exercise plan last night. I worked until 5 so headed right to Lake Placid to walk with my friends. Oops--there was a message on my machine at home that they weren't going to meet me there. I didn't go home, though, so I got there and no one else was around. I decided to walk anyway, much to my surprise. It was a really nice evening, perfect temperature and very peaceful. There's a path that circles the lake and I started out thinking I would walk for 15 minutes then turn around. Once I got started, though, I decided to finish out the route. That's 2.7 miles, and I did it in 50 minutes, very proudly. I'd like to keep doing this so next week hopefully we'll all be together. LP is a long way to drive to walk 2.7 miles, so I'm going to try to walk at least a mile every evening at home. The boardwalk into the bog is a mile round trip so I should be able to do that. The dogs will love it. Tess can play tour guide, since she does that walk with strangers every weekend. She was gone for a few hours on Saturday and that's where she was. I got gas later in the day and at the gas station the man at the pump next to mine asked if that was Tess in the car, because he had just come from the bog. Dubious distinction, having the dog that walks with strangers all the time.
I'm getting ready for Columbus Day weekend. Talked to Rush for a long time, turns out he will be here after all. He's pretty sure to be re-elected so isn't campaigning as much as usual this time. Big party at Linda's Sunday night, our annual Thanksgiving dinner. 17 people expected. I usually have a cocktail party on the boat house porch before the dinner so will prepare for that, depending on the weather. Linda wondered if 17 people would fit on our porch, but I think we'll just cuddle up with each other. People love to be on that porch and we've had a nice time in the past so I'll plan to do it.
And now I have lots of cataloging to do. More stuff for the Robert Louis Stevenson collection, which is very intense. I like to put on my earphones and turn up the music so I'm in my own world and can concentrate. For some reason I always seem to be interrupted during the really good songs. Or does it just feel that way--
Sept. deck view
I always like this sight--the trees on the edge of the forest at my house. I didn't quite capture what's so beautiful about this: the sun was shining through the backs of the trees. This was Saturday morning and it was really pretty.
Saranac foliage
This looks as if the reds have been added and are fake, but they're not. Mostly I thought the colors weren't as bright this year, and I think there should be some bright yellows & oranges in this view. It's awfully pretty anyway.
Saranac sunrise
This was the sunrise on the Saranac River this morning. Hard to see anything in the foreground, but it was a pretty sight.
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