wow!

Last night, I actually slept. I fell asleep at a regular time and woke up without any trouble. (Actually, Sheba woke me up because she wanted under the covers. I let her under and settled back in to go back to sleep and then I heard my alarm start to go off. (Bummer.) My triple alarm system wasn’t even necessary this morning, even though I did lay in bed for several minutes, grumbling, until I couldn’t stand the noise anymore and got up to shut the alarm off. (No, the animals are not part of the alarm system. I’d thought for sure that they’d prevent me from really oversleeping because they’d pester me if they wanted to go outside or have their breakfast. Well, the dogs would rather bust their guts than get off the bed or eat breakfast. I guess I’m not too surprised about that, but I was really sure that one of the cats would wake me up for breakfast. Nope.)

Up until last week, I had only a dual alarm system, and one more than one occasion was not successful at overcoming my hibernation. The first alarm is a really loud and obnoxious one that is set outside the bedroom so that I have to physically get up and shut it off. (Another benefit of having a small house.) The second alarm is a friend who calls me between 6:30 and 6:45. And the third is one set up on the coffee table for 7am. I set it up there because several times, I woke up on the couch despite having fallen asleep in my bed. So, I am either 1) sleepwalking or 2) shutting off the primary alarm and then lying down on the couch with no memory of getting up. I certainly hope it’s 2) because sleepwalking is really not something I want to have to deal with at the moment. (Or ever, for that matter.) Well, the system did work because the other day, I woke up from a dream in which I was locked in a small room full of alarm clocks. All of the alarms were going off, but I couldn’t shut any of them off. I started yanking the plugs from the outlets, and then I woke up and saw that it was 7:55. That buzzer had been going off two feet from my ear for fifty-five minutes before it cut through my slumber. Yeah, I was late to work but I made it in, so I count that as a victory.

the mind/body split

I am writing this post at 1:35 a.m. on Sunday night/Monday morning. I am wide-awake. Why? Because my body decided it needed to hibernate all day and entered another sleep marathon. There was actually something I wanted to do this morning, and even though I set the obnoxious alarm, I don't remember shutting it off. I woke up all cramped up on the couch despite falling asleep last night in my bed. I was all cramped because every.single.dog managed to squeeze onto the couch with me.

I admit that I am really touched by their devotion to their human and quite impressed with their contortionist abilities.

It was raining today, so I had no desire to be outside. I puttered around the house a bit, finished reading Home is Where the Wine Is by Laurie Perry, and finished up a pair of socks (Gansey Socks from Socks from the Toe Up, knit out of STR lightweight, Pond Scum colorway).

Deeply exhausted by such strenuous activities as reading and knitting, I fell asleep again. I woke up much less cramped and deeply rested. It was also 9pm.

My mind is having no luck at convincing my body that while yes, sleep is necessary, and while hibernation-style sleeping is one way of coping with the current crop of life's stresses, sleeping through the alarm on a work day is only going to yield more problems. Catch up on weekends if necessary. Not weekdays!! So I don't dare try to lay down at all right now because I'm terrified that I will sleep through the triple defense system that I've got set up right now (two alarms, set to go off one hour apart, plus a friend who calls me at around 6:30 a.m.)

I never thought I'd yearn for insomnia but at least that's is a slightly more socially acceptable sleep disorder, since at least if you are awake, you can make it into work.

time to dust off the old blog...

Hello all. Yes, it's been ages, and I don't know if anyone actually still swings by this hole in cyberspace anymore.

Anyway, there are two main reasons why I stopped blogging a few months ago.

1. Work was very, very stressful and took up about half my mental energy. Blogging about work can also get me fired, so I couldn't use this as an outlet.

2. My marriage was going down the tubes, and I didn't want to use the blog as an outlet because a) it didn't give Oscar the chance to defend himself and b) prose from the fingers of an angry wife is hardly the most unbiased source of information, no?

So work and marriage took up all my mental energy and I didn't want to blog about either topic.

Let me try to sum up what's been going on during the past few months:
1. Oscar moved out in late December. Unwillingly. I had to threaten to throw his belongings out in the front yard and change the locks if he didn't leave by end of December. Don't feel sorry for him, as he a) hated living in Tacoma and was not quiet about it, b) had never, ever paid one cent towards the house payment and c) had several months to move out but decided not to do anything until threatened.

2. Work is still stressful but I've either become numb to it or it's just easier to bear since I don't have to deal with Oscar on a daily basis.

3. Although the breakup was my idea, it has been much, much harder than I would have anticipated. I've been in a deep funk for several months, which is both surprising and irritating. My sleep has been completely affected, not by insomnia but by its opposite. I can't wake up. I've become a human dormouse. Seriously; several days I've slept for a straight 19 hours. I'd have thought the dogs would have woken me up but it turns out that they would rather bust their gut than get off the couch. (Beasts after my own heart.) No, I am not drinking. No, I am not taking any drugs beyond what the doctor prescribed. (In fact, my doctor even gave me a lecture because I admitted to taking NyQuil when I had a cold. Her: "It has alcohol and alcohol increases depression." Me: "It's 10% alcohol in a 10mL dose. Is one mL of alcohol really going to affect me that much?" Her: "Avoid all alcohol. Take DayQuil next time you have a cold." Okay, but whatev.)

4. I have not made it to work for an entire week since the beginning of the year. I've always been a firm believer of not bringing personal drama into the workplace, and every morning (assuming that I don't sleep through my alarm or fall back asleep) is a big mental rehearsal for "how well can we fake it today?" Actually, if I can wake up, I can make it in. Some days, I've found myself waking up on the couch or living room chair which means that I got out of bed and then sat down and fell asleep again, without even remembering that I woke up.

5. Two things are saving my butt. The first is that I am still producing the work that I need to. The second is that I have an extremely sympathetic supervisor, although part of me thinks I'm unwittingly taking advantage of her sympathy.

(Actually, all the people I work with are great. Seriously, the cream of the crop.)

What is the good news? Well, all the animals seem happy and healthy. (They are all piled on the couch, sound asleep, as I type this. Yes, I am sitting on the floor.)

My big brother visited last week, and it was wonderful to see him. I needed some moral support and he gave generously. He also did all those minor home improvement things that I never get around to (his choice, I didn't give him a list).

Anyway, enough for now. I feel like I should be doing something productive...

Home improvement lesson #2,549,876

Ripping up carpet is hot, dirty work.

It is, however, fairly straightforward and quick.

The obnoxious parts are:

1. removing all the staples used to secure the carpet pad
2. removing the tack strip used to secure the carpet

Removing the staples isn't too hard, except that it can be challenging to find all of them.

Removing the tack strip has involved lots of cursing.

And while I am very happy that the exposed wood floor is in good shape (so far!), there are a few things that I have learned in these past few hours:

1. the dogs nailed need to be trimmed.
2. A dark wood floor is very cozy but it does make the house look darker. That's a bit of a bummer because it is already pretty dark.

Um, that's supposed to be "roll OVER"

and how was your day?

6:00--alarm goes off. I shut it off and fall immediately back asleep (unintentionally)
8:00--Oscar wakes me up
8:01--realize I'm screwed because I have a meeting at 9:15 and don't think I'm going to make it there in time (yay, long commute!)
8:05--call 9:15 meeting coordinator, tell her I'm going to be a few minutes late
9:10--get call from meeting coordinator to check my computer for the conference call number.
9:15--arrive at building, boot computer
9:15:30 go to break room to get a cup of coffee while computer boots up
9:16--all three coffee pots are empty. Curse out loud and seriously consider leaving a passive-aggressive note
9:17--10:00--conference call meeting in which I try to mediate a conflict sans caffeine
10:00-12:00--mandatory employee meeting, wistfully think of all the work that I have to do and am glad that this is the last meeting of the day and have the whole afternoon to work on my deliverables
(11:45--remember that a regularly scheduled bi-weekly meeting has now been rescheduled to occur weekly and that it starts immediately after this one.)
12:00--grab Tootsie roll pop from receptionist candy jar. Lunch!
12:00-1:30--meeting
1:30-1:35--attempt to eat lunch
1:35-2:00--"Lee, do you have a minute for a question?"
2:00-3:00--Meeting
3:00-3:30--follow-up meeting to previous meeting
3:30-4:00--meeting with engineer to clarify some design issues
4:00-4:30--sit in office, slightly dazed and wondering how I am going to get all my work done. Realize that the only way to do this is to spend most of the weekend at the office, putting in unpaid overtime, and try not to lose temper.
4:30-4:35--write approximately one paragraph before realizing I need more information from engineer from the 3:30 meeting
4:35-4:45--feel bad about bothering the guy again but I make it quick
4:45-4:46--type up one sentence
4:46--slump in chair and wonder how I am going to make it until 7pm, which is how late I had planned to work
4:47--say "frak it" and decide to leave at 5, my regularly scheduled end-of-shift.
4:47-4:55--watch clock
4:55-5:20--"Lee, do you have a moment for a question?"
5:20--flee the office and go to pub

What Little Bo Peep wore on her wedding day?

Shepherdess's bridal gown made from wool from her own sheep

And it's really a beautiful dress, too!

Quote of the Day

"I need you to be more clear about what I'm supposed to be vague about."

--an actual comment by a colleague delivered without a trace of irony during a meeting today. The scary thing is that this comment actually made sense in context!

A story in three photos

Chick on left: "something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on it..."

Chick in middle: "if I keep smiling, no one will notice."

Chick on right: "There is it is! Give it back!"

photos from Hairstyle.com

garden harvest

Today's harvest: purple Romanesco beans and two Rocky Hybrid cucumbers (yes, they are full-sized at 3 inches long) from my garden, and five Roma tomatoes and one volunteer tomato from Oscar's garden.  Salad and steamed beans for dinner! :D

Still no cherry toms from my garden, although some are starting to turn. I also hacked off about two cubic feet of extra branches. This plant is now taller than I am.

more pics of Sam

This boy loved to be held, but this is one the very few times I let him climb up (mostly because he could never figure out where to put his back feet. In this pic, his foot is hooked into my bra which was really uncomfortable!) You can tell here that he wasn't a very large dog; I don't think he weighed even 50 lbs (20 kg).

His favorite place to be...on your lap, with his head on your shoulder.

Second favorite activity after hugging...sitting on lap, covering your face in doggie kisses. (Yes, I learned very quickly to take off my glasses when he climbed on my lap.)

Checking out the world...well, the back yard anyway.

So the story behind Sam's death is very sad. I was having trouble leash training him because he got so excited when he saw another dog and very frustrated if he couldn't go over to say hi. He was not dog aggressive at all, even the folks from the rescue group whom I asked to help said the same thing. "Leash frustration, not leash aggression." 

However, it was decided that he needed a more experience trainer than I to evaluate him and so he went to spend a week with a professional trainer and he was signed up for a Pit Bull specific class at a local dog training center. (Between the first and second classes, Sam was with the trainer.) After the second class, the leader of the rescue group said he needed to stay longer with the trainer, so he couldn't come home with Oscar that day. (I didn't make it to class because I was working.) 

The next day, the leader of the rescue called me and said that she'd decided that Sam had too many issues and had him euthanized. 

I was heartbroken and spent most of the afternoon crying. And I was furious because she didn't even let me and Oscar know that this was a possibility. Was it a question of resources? I would have been happy to pay for training (and Oscar talked to the trainer, who said she was willing to continue working with him. She didn't think he was a lost cause. She also said that she refused to foster for that group because of their ridiculously high standards.) 

I know that Sam was technically their dog and was told at the very beginning that if a dog didn't meet their standards, euthanization was a possibility. But seriously, most dogs I've known have had more issues than Sam, regardless of breed. Hell, even my own dogs wouldn't meet their standards--Seamus because he can be dog aggressive and be possessive of his toys (only to other dogs, not to people). And Kate, sweet, lovable Kate, is a ferocious defender of territory, and if she's in the front yard will bark fiercely at anyone who walks in front of the house. All these behaviors are no-nos for them.

tomato harvest 2009, part 1

Growing tomatoes is always a bit of a crapshoot here in the Pacific Northwest, since the summer weather can be really unpredictable. There are several varieties specifically bred for this climate; that is, they tend to be smaller, have shorter growing seasons, and don't need a lot of heat to ripen. Even so, this is not a guarantee of anything. These toms just increase your chances of eating a vine-ripened tom. Last year, for example, was a terrible year for toms because it was cold and rainy for most of the summer. In contrast, the weather this year has been so hot and dry that you could probably get brandywines without any trouble. 

It's good to know a lot of recipes for using green tomatoes if you are a gardener in the Pacific Northwest. (Tip...green toms can be substituted for any recipe calling for tomatillos.)

This year I planted currant and cherry tomatoes. As you can probably guess, these are small tomatoes with a short growing season. In addition, the currant tomato was supposedly a good container plant. I say "supposedly" because I planted it in a container using the same mix that's in my raised bed and the currant tomato is a really unhappy looking plant. In contrast, the cherry tomato is about about as tall as I am (and I've been pruning this sucker back pretty aggressively too!), and is loaded with fruit which are finally starting to turn red. 

This morning I was able to harvest some currant tomatoes. This photo represents about half of the fruit on the plant:

(Seamus doesn't know what's in my hand but he wants to know if he can have some anyway.)

Despite actually yielding fruit, the currant tomato was not a success. First all, I expected a hell of a lot more tomatoes than a handful. Second, they had a weird texture--very leathery skin, and since they are so small, they have a very high skin ratio. Third, and most importantly--they aren't very flavorful. They are as bland a supermarket tomato in winter. Maybe this is due to the health of the plant and if the plant were happier, perhaps the tomatoes would be tastier. But I am a laissez-faire gardener. I will provide a raised bed, water, and a good soil mix and then expect a plant to produce under those conditions. I know enough not to plant a sun-loving plant in shade and expect good results.  But I'm not going to coddle the plant. If a plant does not thrive under the conditions I can provide, then I'll just plant something else. 

RIP Sam

Goodbye, Samuel T. Pibble. 

I miss you terribly. 

I'm so disappointed in the president

Of all the incredible beers to chose from, he selects Bud Light? 

Bud Light?????

Ok, incredibly smart guy, but man, does he have bad taste in beer. 

returning to normalcy, more or less

Ok, the oppressive heat wave seems to have broken. Now it is just "regular" summer hot. And possible to sleep again.

The other night, I took a shower and then sat out on the porch trying to keep cool. It didn't work. It was a day of record-breaking heat (104 F [40 c] here in T-town), approximately 70% humidity, and no frakkin' breeze. Even a hot breeze would have been welcome. I had dog hair sticking to the sweat on my bare skin and my hair curled up into a giant ball. I swear, it looked like I had a tumbleweed on my head. bah.

WTF??

Several days of heat. Today it is 104F (40C). I swear it's nearly as hot inside the house. 

I think I'm going to brave the packs of Giant Raccoons that hangs out in the alley and sleep out in the backyard tonight.

more random photos

view from the 32nd floor of the building I work in. Qwest field is in the left background, and the Port of Seattle is on the right. I love watching the cranes.

The "employee health center" at my office. Although I work for a state agency, I am co-located in a consultant's office and this is what they provide their employees. It's a stark difference than the first aid kits at the agency offices, in which great and passionate arguments arose about what kind of first-aid kit to supply. By law, the office must have a first aid kit, but so many of them come with aspirin or other mild pain relievers and apparently, we aren't allowed to "buy drugs with taxpayer money." So, if you are in an agency office, you are covered if you get a compound fracture, split an artery, or have a heart attack (there are defibrillators on each floor), but if you have a headache or cut your finger, you are on your own.

Contrast that to the consultant's cabinet, in which there are six different types of pain reliever, three types of throat lozenges, cold/flu/sinus medicine, eye drops, antibiotic cream, iodine and alcohol wipes, burn cream, several sizes of bandages for minor cuts, anti-diarrheal medicine, tablets for upset stomach, antacids, and many others. (They do not have anything to counter nausea. I guess they figure if you feel like throwing up, then go home.)

I love that someone decided to plant vegetables in an empty spot in an otherwise "professionally landscaped" area next to a building. Here are some beans.

And tomatoes.  First Hill, Seattle

Got pie? First Hill, Seattle

This is not my bike, but college classmates may remember that I painted my bike a similar color. Pioneer Square, Seattle

Male knitting population increased by two

Here's Mr Softball working on his scarf. He caught on really quickly. Did four rows all by himself.

No, Mr Softball is not in agony. He's laughing at someone's comment. To his right is Alpaca Boy, who was a more typical beginning (meaning every knit stitch was accompanied by a lot of swearing).

And yes, I kept my end of the bargain. I played softball that evening. 

Let's make a deal...

In spring, young men's thoughts turn to love; but in summer, the young men's thoughts turn to softball. 

And, my goodness, do they really want to play softball. There are office leagues within the Agency-That-I-Work-For, but all the costs come out of the players pockets. Although the ATIWF does not support the players financially, it still provides the rules: 

1. Slow Pitch softball

2. May not play during working hours

3. There must be at least three women on the team and at least two in the field during each inning.

And when you work in an office when the men outnumber the women by, um, about 12:1, you suddenly get very, very popular. (Guys I didn't even know existed were emailing me asking me to join their office league. You see, the project that I'm working on is an Agency project, but most of the people working on it are consultants. And there are about six different consultants, each with their own leagues. Dear god.)

Well, I ignored all the requests except from one of my colleagues in the ATIWF, because he's a nice guy and most importantly, he did not call me a girl. (You want a girl to play softball with you? Then recruit from an elementary school.)

So I signed up, but told him I am as flaky as a croissant and not to be surprised if I backed out. His response? "Hmmm, I'll put you down as tentative."

Well, true to (my) form, I decided I didn't want to spent several nights in Renton playing double-headers, so I informed my colleague that I was dropping out. His response? "No, you can't. I won't allow it. Please, don't." Apparently, just about every other women who had signed up had also backed out that day. I reminded him that it was tentative anyway. 

But he was glum. 

Apparently, my defection brought the team's estrogen level below critical levels.

I felt kinda bad (not too much) but later I spied an opportunity. I'd make him a deal. A devilish deal.

The next day, I told him that I'd play softball if he'd let me teach him to knit. On game days, he had to join me at lunchtime, out on the patio (i.e. IN PUBLIC!), and knit. He knits, I play. He doesn't knit, I don't play. He was a bit startled by my offer but it didn't take too long for him to realize that his love of softball was greater than his fear of knitting, and he agreed.

So yesterday, we went to So Much Yarn during lunch, accompanied by another (female) colleague who wants to learn, as well as a male colleague who already does knit (!), and one other male colleague who thought we were going to Pike Place Market.

In the shop, I told the story to the owner and she laughed. KnitBoy raised his arms in victory and all the women in the shop cheered. 

Now, the funny thing was that when the guy who just tagged along found out we were going to a yarn shop, he started to complain (in a joking way). But when we got to the shop, he was transfixed. Yarn shops and yarn projects run the gamut from lowkey to elegant, and SMY is definitely on the elegant end of the scale. He was transfixed by all the sample scarves--"wow! you can make these?" and while he was standing around waiting for the others to make their purchases, I snuck up behind him* with a skein of baby alpaca/merino wool blend and rubbed it against his neck.

If you've ever touched alpaca, you know how silky soft it is. Baby alpaca is even more dreamy. My colleague turned around with a look of wonder on his face and asked "I can make something that soft?" "Yes." "I want to learn how to knit!" 

And he bought the yarn and some needles, too. And he's full of enthusiasm to make a scarf out of that baby alpaca/wool yarn.

And while I am as pleased as punch that I am increasing the world's male knitting population by two, I am a bit bummed they both chose the same yarn and the same color--gray. 

*This is the reason Oscar does not like to accompany me in yarn shops anymore. He keeps complaining that everything itches and I really have a hard time believing that, so I wait until his back his turned and then shove a soft (to me) skein of yarn down his neck, asking "Is that scratchy?" I have since come to the conclusion that he is allergic to everything except luxury fibers.

bwah hahahahahaha

found on Cake Wrecks