In the past two days I've been surprised to arrive home and find "gifts". Little boxes of things that I did not order that came without charge to me....or so I thought.
The first was a small sample product of skincare. Did my cousin - who works in the industry - put me on a list? Did I somehow get a free gift with purchase? Who gives things away like this? I dropped the samples on the counter and didn't think anything else about it.
The next day, a bigger box arrived and I opened it to find software for starting an internet business...hmmmm...I definitely didn't order this? Where is this stuff coming from?
I looked more closely at the invoice of the beauty products and found while the items were free, they charged me shipping. Then I read through the software agreement and found that even accessing their website could be seen as activating my account.
Hubby and I checked the internet and found both companies had complaints against them for "aggressive marketing". Then we checked our accounts and realized we had three unauthorized charges. Now, while those charges only amounted to about $23.00 in total, it's always annoying at the least, and alarming at the most, to see someone accessing your funds. We were also puzzled by the fact that my nickname was on the invoice and shipping labels, but our accounts all have my formal name? How did they get the nickname?
Our first call this morning was to the bank to cancel our debit card. Not tremendously convenient to have to do that 3 days before vacation, but we needed to nip it in the bud. Then I began calling the phone numbers on our debit statement.
Call #1: They wanted my phone number. I refused to give it. They insisted they could not look up the account without it. I said, I'll give you my name (rank, serial number), but not phone number. They settled for zip code and found the account. (The rep then snottily read off my phone number to me as if to say, Nah Nah, even though you wouldn't give it to me I have it hear anyway...bitch.)
They informed me that I had accepted an offer from "Platinum Rewards" on a phone call to my office number (aha! the nickname source becomes clear, as I always answer my desk phone with my name) that afforded me a free gas card or wal-mart gift card if I said ok to trying three products. (Note - I had three strange charges on my account). I insisted I had NEVER said yes to those offers. I typically refuse....and sometimes just hang up mid-offer. They said they would cancel my account, investigate the offer and have a recording of the call pulled. You can bet your ass I'm calling back in 10 days to hear that recording.
Call #2: A recording that their system is down, please call back later. And believe me I will.
Call #3: I don't even know what this company was, but they told me I had signed up for two service accounts. No I didn't. Yes you did. No, I really didn't. Yes you did. No, I'm telling you I didn't. Apparently they have a record that I received a call and accepted the offer. Nope, said I. Yes, said they. Ok, I said, there is such a thing as human error and there is such a thing as fraud. You take your pick, but I did NOT accept this offer. It's not human error and it's not fraud, was the retort. Well, then, I want to hear a recording of the call. (moment of silence). That won't be necessary, we'll credit your account. Victory. All for $4.95.
At this point my blood pressure feels like it is through the roof. But I feel a small sense of justice that I didn't just blow off the $23.00 but went after it like it was my LAST $23.00. And so, dear reader, my advice to you is beware of strangers bearing gifts. Stick to your guns, no matter how small the offense (or dollar amount). And kick some scamming butt.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Best of Intentions
I saw this post today at Chick's site and of course it made me sad. It also reminded me of something that happened many years ago.
I had a friend (we'll call her Kay) who desperately wanted children. Kay was so happy when she became pregnant shortly after she and her husband began trying. One day, when she was about six months along, the four of us were to have a couple's night out and go see Harry Connick in concert. Hubby and I received a call shortly before the concert that Kay wasn't feeling well and they had decided to skip the concert.
The next day I learned that she had lost the baby. Because of her advanced pregnancy, they had to induce labor and she had to deliver the baby. She and her husband were devastated. They named the baby (a boy) and in jewish tradition, buried him immediately. It was awful.
Another friend of ours (we'll call her Ella) wanted so desperately to find some way to reach out to Kay and her husband, to express her sorrow and to bring them comfort.
She...and I still cannot believe this....sent a balloon bouquet.
[pause for reaction]
I learned about it after the delivery was set and I so wanted to find a way to stop it and to explain to Ella what a huge mistake she had made.
Kay's husband was shocked to see a balloon bouquet appear at the door, where they were mourning. "WTF was she thinking!!!" Kay told me he shouted.
Then Kay's husband took a pair of scissors and proceeded to stab, pop, shred and destroy all of the balloons in a fury. When it was done, he was out of breath and quiet. After a moment, he turned to Kay and said, "I know I couldn't believe she did this, but her intentions were good, and actually, destroying those balloons is the best I've felt all week..."
So it goes to show, that even the most awkward and misplaced of gestures can be well-received by someone in pain when they know you bring the words or actions from the deepest part of your heart, where you are aching on their behalf and just want them to know they are not alone.
I had a friend (we'll call her Kay) who desperately wanted children. Kay was so happy when she became pregnant shortly after she and her husband began trying. One day, when she was about six months along, the four of us were to have a couple's night out and go see Harry Connick in concert. Hubby and I received a call shortly before the concert that Kay wasn't feeling well and they had decided to skip the concert.
The next day I learned that she had lost the baby. Because of her advanced pregnancy, they had to induce labor and she had to deliver the baby. She and her husband were devastated. They named the baby (a boy) and in jewish tradition, buried him immediately. It was awful.
Another friend of ours (we'll call her Ella) wanted so desperately to find some way to reach out to Kay and her husband, to express her sorrow and to bring them comfort.
She...and I still cannot believe this....sent a balloon bouquet.
[pause for reaction]
I learned about it after the delivery was set and I so wanted to find a way to stop it and to explain to Ella what a huge mistake she had made.
Kay's husband was shocked to see a balloon bouquet appear at the door, where they were mourning. "WTF was she thinking!!!" Kay told me he shouted.
Then Kay's husband took a pair of scissors and proceeded to stab, pop, shred and destroy all of the balloons in a fury. When it was done, he was out of breath and quiet. After a moment, he turned to Kay and said, "I know I couldn't believe she did this, but her intentions were good, and actually, destroying those balloons is the best I've felt all week..."
So it goes to show, that even the most awkward and misplaced of gestures can be well-received by someone in pain when they know you bring the words or actions from the deepest part of your heart, where you are aching on their behalf and just want them to know they are not alone.
Monday, August 24, 2009
T-5 days and Counting
Every summer, we return to our favorite place - Cape Cod, with some of our favorite friends - and have a waterfront vacation. This will be our 8th year in a row. For the most part, it has been a smooth ride. A few bumps here and there (I revolted last year and demanded we switch houses after I had reached my ant/mouse/filth limit with the old place), but all in all, it's a good time.
We are currently in the countdown period which we fill with shopping lists (I'm bringing the ketchup and mustard, you bring the bbq sauce...etc.), packing lists (how many suits are you bringing this year? are your beach chairs in good shape?) and of course, weather forecasts. We start with the extended 15 day outlook which usually has little resemblance to actual weather that far out. Today we're looking at the 10-day. It's been slowly improving (Hurricane Bill was a worry). You see, after one particularly bad weather year at the Cape we determined packing five adults, a teenager and a child together into one tiny house was not a good combination if there is no sunny beach to run to. Hubby #2 and I have a pact that if it sucks that bad, we're heading home...we'll leave the rest of the crew there.
While we return to the Cape every year, we've begun to shake it up a bit with the actual rental address. After 6 years at the same place (great Location, not so great accommodations) we selected a new site in 2008. The house was beautiful, well maintained, smelled good, and had no pest issues....believe me a BIG step up in addressing my pet peeves. But had some shortfalls in other issues in layout, privacy, and beach quality. So, onward and upward - we'll try this next address and see what we think.
2009 Cape Rental:
Hubby is VERY ready to go. In fact about two weeks ago he put up a sign on our kitchen door so that every day as we leave, he can cross out the number of days and subtract one. I can't decide if it is normal vacation desire, or the fact that this year Hubby has pieces in a current gallery show at the Cape Cod Art Association. I think he's feeling like a real artist with this acceptance. Of course, I've known it all along.
So T-5 days...can't wait!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Dress Drama
"I wish you were here!!!!" was the wail I got when I answered the phone on Saturday.
"I am going insane trying to pick out this damn dress. Why, oh why did I want another wedding ceremony? Why didn't I elope and take the money and run??? Why Wenderina Why???"
Yup. You guessed it. Bridal meltdown.
I am the MOH in my cousin's wedding (her 2nd and I believe her last...either way) and after months of talking about stuff and thinking how much easier it is to do this the 2nd time after you learned what you DID NOT want to do from the first, we realize...we were totally fooling ourselves.
We still had to get a bunch of different size, different type, different opinioned women, and teenage girls (yeah...that wasn't too tough) to agree on dresses. Of course, after we all agreed, one of the ADULTS in the ceremony actually revolted and "requested" that she be able to buy a different dress in the same color. After I calmed the bride down from her homicidal temper (Does she remember what she made me wear? a strapless gown with my hair in an updo and my nails in a french manicure? I am a G-cup - strapless??? I have 16 lbs of hair - in an updo?? and I HATE french manicures....I never said BOO!) the rebel was allowed her dress and one of the other bridesmaids was also given leave to change hers as well.
Then came time to plan the shower. I asked each member of the bridal party to think about planning on $200/person for the cost of the shower (60 people to come) and we would also include the gift in that. End result: panic! They are all hurting for money. So, we cut it in half. Hopefully we can make it all work for that.
Let's not forget the men in this scenario. First, the groom is barely speaking to his three brothers right now and yet they are all in the wedding party. Then, the men are not happy that they are included in the whole shower fiasco. I keep trying to bill it as a picnic/party, but they aren't buying it at all. No alcohol is planned for the shower....I'm thinking this could be an issue.
Now the bride (having gone from a G to a C thanks to surgery, and down 30 pounds) is shopping for her dress. Did I mention the wedding is less than two months away? And she isn't happy. Not one bit. About the choices she is finding.
So after three phone calls yesterday and one today, some scrambling on the internet to try and see what she has tried on (since despite my begging she didn't take any pictures) I think she's closing in on a choice.
There is a reason that Lifetime has a couple of shows about this - Bridezilla and Say Yes to the Dress - there really is drama in the whole process.
God save me from EVER doing this again.
"I am going insane trying to pick out this damn dress. Why, oh why did I want another wedding ceremony? Why didn't I elope and take the money and run??? Why Wenderina Why???"
Yup. You guessed it. Bridal meltdown.
I am the MOH in my cousin's wedding (her 2nd and I believe her last...either way) and after months of talking about stuff and thinking how much easier it is to do this the 2nd time after you learned what you DID NOT want to do from the first, we realize...we were totally fooling ourselves.
We still had to get a bunch of different size, different type, different opinioned women, and teenage girls (yeah...that wasn't too tough) to agree on dresses. Of course, after we all agreed, one of the ADULTS in the ceremony actually revolted and "requested" that she be able to buy a different dress in the same color. After I calmed the bride down from her homicidal temper (Does she remember what she made me wear? a strapless gown with my hair in an updo and my nails in a french manicure? I am a G-cup - strapless??? I have 16 lbs of hair - in an updo?? and I HATE french manicures....I never said BOO!) the rebel was allowed her dress and one of the other bridesmaids was also given leave to change hers as well.
Then came time to plan the shower. I asked each member of the bridal party to think about planning on $200/person for the cost of the shower (60 people to come) and we would also include the gift in that. End result: panic! They are all hurting for money. So, we cut it in half. Hopefully we can make it all work for that.
Let's not forget the men in this scenario. First, the groom is barely speaking to his three brothers right now and yet they are all in the wedding party. Then, the men are not happy that they are included in the whole shower fiasco. I keep trying to bill it as a picnic/party, but they aren't buying it at all. No alcohol is planned for the shower....I'm thinking this could be an issue.
Now the bride (having gone from a G to a C thanks to surgery, and down 30 pounds) is shopping for her dress. Did I mention the wedding is less than two months away? And she isn't happy. Not one bit. About the choices she is finding.
So after three phone calls yesterday and one today, some scrambling on the internet to try and see what she has tried on (since despite my begging she didn't take any pictures) I think she's closing in on a choice.
There is a reason that Lifetime has a couple of shows about this - Bridezilla and Say Yes to the Dress - there really is drama in the whole process.
God save me from EVER doing this again.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Still Going...
Like the energizer bunny (but maybe with a few more stops, starts, and writer's block), I've been going at this blog thing for 2 years now. I often wonder who is out there reading this (if anyone), and what they might think of my random little life moments. But no matter, lurk, de-lurk...I started this for me and continue it for the same reason. It's an outlet, an interest, and a hobby that takes me away from my regular daily grind and forces me to take a look at my life from an outside angle at least a couple times a week.
Let's see if I can make it another year...next blogoversary in 2010...hard to fathom, but time marches on.
Let's see if I can make it another year...next blogoversary in 2010...hard to fathom, but time marches on.
Random Letters to the Universe
Dear Employee:
Please do not leave me a voice mail, an email, and an instant message all within 30 seconds with the message, "Please give me a call when you get a chance." Pick one medium and stick with it. I'll get back to you.
And? When I call you? Please don't use the time to whiningly defend why you couldn't do your job right. It does not improve your situation.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Hear that? It's your career dissipation clock and it's about to explode.
Your Boss,
Wenderina
---
Dear Bagel Shop:
You are wiley bastards. Not only have you figured out a cattle herding space plan that allows for 52 people in line in your 10x20 store space, but you have also lined that maze with every conceivable pre-packaged treat imaginable. I see exactly what you are doing, and yet I am helpless to resist, and must reach out and grab the muffin sample tray, the candied fruit, and the gourmet bagel spreads.
You should teach a class in successful marketing for a down economy.
In respectful awe,
Wenderina
---
Dear Al Gore:
I'm trying, I'm really trying. But this heat is a killer so my A/C will be running all day until it stops.
So sorry. Hopefully the fluorescent bulbs in every light in my house offset it a little.
It ain't easy being green,
Wenderina
---
Dear Calendar,
While I hate to wish my life away, please please please hurry to August 29th. I must get out of this office and find the beach right now.
Anticipating the Cape,
Wenderina
---
Dear Penny Kitty,
You are a potato head. At first I thought you were just batting the potatos off the counter and rolling them around, but since we found one on the 2nd! floor this week and you have now been observed carrying one around in your mouth, I'm convinced. You are truly insane.
And thanks for beating up those home grown tomatoes that were ripening on the window sill. God forbid that we got to eat anything so healthy and organic. You really saved us there.
Marley's got nothing on my kitty,
Wenderina
---
Dear Yaz Kitty,
There is no need to take after your young crazy partner in annoying me. I heard you meowing at me at 5AM even before you stuck your paw in my water glass and shook it in my face. Good thing you are cute or you might be out on your sweet little furry ass.
Sleepless in Suffern,
Wenderina
Please do not leave me a voice mail, an email, and an instant message all within 30 seconds with the message, "Please give me a call when you get a chance." Pick one medium and stick with it. I'll get back to you.
And? When I call you? Please don't use the time to whiningly defend why you couldn't do your job right. It does not improve your situation.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Hear that? It's your career dissipation clock and it's about to explode.
Your Boss,
Wenderina
---
Dear Bagel Shop:
You are wiley bastards. Not only have you figured out a cattle herding space plan that allows for 52 people in line in your 10x20 store space, but you have also lined that maze with every conceivable pre-packaged treat imaginable. I see exactly what you are doing, and yet I am helpless to resist, and must reach out and grab the muffin sample tray, the candied fruit, and the gourmet bagel spreads.
You should teach a class in successful marketing for a down economy.
In respectful awe,
Wenderina
---
Dear Al Gore:
I'm trying, I'm really trying. But this heat is a killer so my A/C will be running all day until it stops.
So sorry. Hopefully the fluorescent bulbs in every light in my house offset it a little.
It ain't easy being green,
Wenderina
---
Dear Calendar,
While I hate to wish my life away, please please please hurry to August 29th. I must get out of this office and find the beach right now.
Anticipating the Cape,
Wenderina
---
Dear Penny Kitty,
You are a potato head. At first I thought you were just batting the potatos off the counter and rolling them around, but since we found one on the 2nd! floor this week and you have now been observed carrying one around in your mouth, I'm convinced. You are truly insane.
And thanks for beating up those home grown tomatoes that were ripening on the window sill. God forbid that we got to eat anything so healthy and organic. You really saved us there.
Marley's got nothing on my kitty,
Wenderina
---
Dear Yaz Kitty,
There is no need to take after your young crazy partner in annoying me. I heard you meowing at me at 5AM even before you stuck your paw in my water glass and shook it in my face. Good thing you are cute or you might be out on your sweet little furry ass.
Sleepless in Suffern,
Wenderina
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
(Not so) Skinny Dipping
Last night was the night I wait for all summer. The perfect blending of hot summer night, warmed pool water, and a quiet neighborhood. At midnight I stealthily exited my kitchen door and was pleasantly greeted by that night air so heavy you can cut it with a knife. I dipped my toe in the water and checked the temp...finally...after hovering around 70 for most of the season, a few hot days and nights in a row had raised it to about 78 degrees. With the air temp still hovering at about 85 it was the perfect difference to be refreshing and relaxing.
My nightgown hit the ground with a soft swish and I stepped into the pool. Gliding back and forth, the silence was only broken by the lapping water and the crickets call. All around me the fireflies were dancing and their glow was intensified by the darkened cloudy sky, providing the only light source except what softly spilled out from our windows.
I glanced over to the kitchen door and saw both cats silhouetted with their heads swiveling back and forth like a slow motion crowd shot at Wimbledon, watching me as I swam slow laps.
Everything was perfect.
Until I reached for a towel and realized I had none.
My nightgown hit the ground with a soft swish and I stepped into the pool. Gliding back and forth, the silence was only broken by the lapping water and the crickets call. All around me the fireflies were dancing and their glow was intensified by the darkened cloudy sky, providing the only light source except what softly spilled out from our windows.
I glanced over to the kitchen door and saw both cats silhouetted with their heads swiveling back and forth like a slow motion crowd shot at Wimbledon, watching me as I swam slow laps.
Everything was perfect.
Until I reached for a towel and realized I had none.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Kitty Potato Head
We continue to adjust to our new cats and their quirks. My pick of the litter - Yaz - is the sweetest best kitty. She even let me cut her nails this weekend. She has her own stuff, of course, like any self-respecting female....but I get her.
Penny, on the other hand continues to astound and confound me. She enjoys chasing her tail in circles while I clean up the kitchen. She literally twist in a circle trying to bite her tail until she falls down exhausted. After catching her breath, she's up and spinning again.
Just being a kitten right? Just a little adolescent nonsense, you say. Insanity I fear.
Today, I came home and spied what looked like a large rock in the middle of the living room floor.
Penny, on the other hand continues to astound and confound me. She enjoys chasing her tail in circles while I clean up the kitchen. She literally twist in a circle trying to bite her tail until she falls down exhausted. After catching her breath, she's up and spinning again.
Just being a kitten right? Just a little adolescent nonsense, you say. Insanity I fear.
Today, I came home and spied what looked like a large rock in the middle of the living room floor.
After cautiously creeping up on it - I couldn't believe my eyes. Can you tell what this is? Can you guess what large rock-like object Penny had stolen from a bowl on the counter to play with? It's pretty obvious from the title I know.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Separate but Equal
This post is not about what you think it is about. This is about one day. One day in a solid and happy marriage. Specifically it is about this Saturday in my marriage.
When we awoke on Saturday we saw, an unusual thing stretched before us. A found day. Yes there were errands to run. Yes, blackberries needed to be monitored. But the sun was shining. Work needs were less than anticipated. And we had no real obligations except to our own purposes. We sat eating breakfast and thought about what we wanted to do for the day.
Hubby was keen on finding a cave called the Stone Church and photographing it. Wenderina was focused on finalizing her bridesmaid duties by ordering dress, slip, sash, shoes, and then checking out some end of summer sales for seasonal clothing.
We went our separate ways and promised that the first one headed home would take care of picking up groceries for dinner.
For a day spent completely separated - by 10AM we were both on our way in opposite directions - I felt very in tune with Hubby. It was a cheerful and relaxing day for both of us. By mid afternoon we figured out I was closest to grocery store so I took that on. Hubby arrived home after 5:30 and took on the cooking duties while I lounged by the pool. We sat down for dinner and talked about our day and it was lovely.
I thought about how the day might have gone if one or the other of us had been dragged into the agenda of our spouse for the sake of spending some found time together. I doubt it would have ended so well. So even though we spent many hours apart, we were equal in our enjoyment and in sync with one another.
I accomplished my goals - the dress and duties are done. Hubby accomplished his (check out his photos!). And in the end we came together to share the happy results of our day. Sometimes separate but equal works.
When we awoke on Saturday we saw, an unusual thing stretched before us. A found day. Yes there were errands to run. Yes, blackberries needed to be monitored. But the sun was shining. Work needs were less than anticipated. And we had no real obligations except to our own purposes. We sat eating breakfast and thought about what we wanted to do for the day.
Hubby was keen on finding a cave called the Stone Church and photographing it. Wenderina was focused on finalizing her bridesmaid duties by ordering dress, slip, sash, shoes, and then checking out some end of summer sales for seasonal clothing.
We went our separate ways and promised that the first one headed home would take care of picking up groceries for dinner.
For a day spent completely separated - by 10AM we were both on our way in opposite directions - I felt very in tune with Hubby. It was a cheerful and relaxing day for both of us. By mid afternoon we figured out I was closest to grocery store so I took that on. Hubby arrived home after 5:30 and took on the cooking duties while I lounged by the pool. We sat down for dinner and talked about our day and it was lovely.
I thought about how the day might have gone if one or the other of us had been dragged into the agenda of our spouse for the sake of spending some found time together. I doubt it would have ended so well. So even though we spent many hours apart, we were equal in our enjoyment and in sync with one another.
I accomplished my goals - the dress and duties are done. Hubby accomplished his (check out his photos!). And in the end we came together to share the happy results of our day. Sometimes separate but equal works.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
More Shoe Stuff
You doubted my story, I know you did...but the proof is right here in this photo! Since my boots went the way of used kitty litter (literally), I'm now trying to find out where the "worn once" pair this visiting dignitary has on are hiding in our office.
Baby needs a new pair of shoes.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Put on Your Red Hat
A friend introduced me to a new restaurant which is destined to become a favorite location for me. It's pricey...of course...but unlike many waterfront restaurants, it doesn't rely upon its river view but stands on its own merits. I'm speaking of the Red Hat Bistro in Irvington-on-Hudson, NY.
It was a Monday night and about 95 degrees in the shade at 6PM and yet the restaurant's main room and bar were packed. I soon realized why - the service, the food, the ambience, and the jazz trio were exquisite. Put all together with a nice dinner out with a good "new" friend, and it couldn't have been a better night.
I enjoyed a house special (fresh squeezed) Cosmopolitan. So Yummy. Then decided on a meal made up of two separate appetizers. A simple spinach and endive salad with sliced pears and a crabcake. Simply delicious. In between courses, perhaps because my dining companion knew the owner and used to have her own restaurant, we got little mini samplers of appetizers. The asparagus and prosciutto was spectacular and I don't even like asparagus or prosciutto! Together they were a perfect blend of flavor and so so so...well...yummy. At the end of the meal we split the profiteroles and enjoyed a cup of tea and watched the thunderstorm work its way down the Hudson River. Great show through the large floor to vaulted ceiling windows overlooking the waterfront and the Tappan Zee bridge.
I simply can't say enough about this great restaurant. If any of you are within driving distance - I highly recommend you take some respite here - even if only for a drink on their rooftop bar at sunset. Quite the show that mother nature puts on, when you bother to set the theater up just right for her.
In the words of Julia Child, so much in my mind these days, "Bon Appetit!"
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Julie and Julia
Ok. I don't know where I was when the Julie/Julia Project blog was birthed and gave life to a writer's career for Julie Powell, and I don't know where I was when the blog grew into a best selling book. But the movie finally woke me up.
Previews for the movie got me interested in the story and I found myself at the bookstore and couldn't resist picking up a copy of the book. Like most blogs (and most books that come from blogs) it was unrelentingly self-absorbed. Duh. I mean we are writing about ourselves for the most part, unless we get lucky enough to get paid to write about something else that people want our opinion on. But there was something in the way Julie Powell acknowledged her self-absorption (and tendency toward hysterics) that helped you get past it.
I blew through the book in about 4 days (even with the hordes of relatives visiting my house...okay so it was only 4 adults and a 2-1/2 year old, but you know, that fills my house to the brim) and I really enjoyed it. I was particularly touched by the honest way she portrayed her relationship with her mother - far from a major part of the book, but it resonated with me. Acknowledging the stressors between the two women, but appreciating that nagging comes from caring (regardless of how it is delivered), advice comes from love (regardless of if it is wanted), and in the end, if you can step back a moment, you can admire the woman who is your mother/daughter and be thankful of what she has brought to your life.
The relationship Julie has made with her own mind's construction of Julia Child is kind of like a mother/daughter model as well. Julia Child represents some kind of guiding light to her through her life's choices and her cooking. The moments in the book when Julie feels she cannot live up to the expectations of her role model, and also when these shaky character constructions come tumbling down, are some of the most poignant.
We all, as bloggers, even if we don't have the INTENT to be writers, still must admit to the smallest of hopes that we might be discovered for our talent and whisked out of our hum-drum every day existence. We feel we are putting ourselves out there and we just know, even if we're only getting a few comments a day those commenters represent dozens or maybe hundreds of non-commenting lurkers. Julie Powell is living our non-specific and ill-pursued dream. From dead-end job to literary giant. From obscurity to fame. From sad, depressed, self-obsessed blogger to entertaining, witty, self-supporting author.
As I sat in the movie theater watching Amy Adams play the role I wondered what Julie Powell must have thought on her first viewing. It must have been a totally surreal experience. Is she prepared, I wondered, to become the "Julia Child" to someone else's Julie Powell existence? It must certainly be a side effect of her transformation that those (we?) frustrated self-indulgent bloggers will now see her as the model for their (our?) own escape. But the odds are against them (ok, us!). I mean, really, we need to face the truth. There is probably less chance of a discovered and sustained success story for a blogger/writer than there is of winning the lottery!
In the meantime, we continue to search for meaning in our writing, for models and examples of other more exciting lives, and for escape. I just hope, in the meantime, we remember that Julia Child and Julie Powell certainly had their own challenges in life, and while they may have risen to fame through their cooking and their writing, they aren't really so different from us. They likely had/have disappointments, frustrations, fractured dreams, and unfulfilled wishes. And wanting to be them - in their most bright and famous moments, could make us forget how good it actually is to be just who we are - blogging here - self indulgently - every day.
Previews for the movie got me interested in the story and I found myself at the bookstore and couldn't resist picking up a copy of the book. Like most blogs (and most books that come from blogs) it was unrelentingly self-absorbed. Duh. I mean we are writing about ourselves for the most part, unless we get lucky enough to get paid to write about something else that people want our opinion on. But there was something in the way Julie Powell acknowledged her self-absorption (and tendency toward hysterics) that helped you get past it.
I blew through the book in about 4 days (even with the hordes of relatives visiting my house...okay so it was only 4 adults and a 2-1/2 year old, but you know, that fills my house to the brim) and I really enjoyed it. I was particularly touched by the honest way she portrayed her relationship with her mother - far from a major part of the book, but it resonated with me. Acknowledging the stressors between the two women, but appreciating that nagging comes from caring (regardless of how it is delivered), advice comes from love (regardless of if it is wanted), and in the end, if you can step back a moment, you can admire the woman who is your mother/daughter and be thankful of what she has brought to your life.
The relationship Julie has made with her own mind's construction of Julia Child is kind of like a mother/daughter model as well. Julia Child represents some kind of guiding light to her through her life's choices and her cooking. The moments in the book when Julie feels she cannot live up to the expectations of her role model, and also when these shaky character constructions come tumbling down, are some of the most poignant.
We all, as bloggers, even if we don't have the INTENT to be writers, still must admit to the smallest of hopes that we might be discovered for our talent and whisked out of our hum-drum every day existence. We feel we are putting ourselves out there and we just know, even if we're only getting a few comments a day those commenters represent dozens or maybe hundreds of non-commenting lurkers. Julie Powell is living our non-specific and ill-pursued dream. From dead-end job to literary giant. From obscurity to fame. From sad, depressed, self-obsessed blogger to entertaining, witty, self-supporting author.
As I sat in the movie theater watching Amy Adams play the role I wondered what Julie Powell must have thought on her first viewing. It must have been a totally surreal experience. Is she prepared, I wondered, to become the "Julia Child" to someone else's Julie Powell existence? It must certainly be a side effect of her transformation that those (we?) frustrated self-indulgent bloggers will now see her as the model for their (our?) own escape. But the odds are against them (ok, us!). I mean, really, we need to face the truth. There is probably less chance of a discovered and sustained success story for a blogger/writer than there is of winning the lottery!
In the meantime, we continue to search for meaning in our writing, for models and examples of other more exciting lives, and for escape. I just hope, in the meantime, we remember that Julia Child and Julie Powell certainly had their own challenges in life, and while they may have risen to fame through their cooking and their writing, they aren't really so different from us. They likely had/have disappointments, frustrations, fractured dreams, and unfulfilled wishes. And wanting to be them - in their most bright and famous moments, could make us forget how good it actually is to be just who we are - blogging here - self indulgently - every day.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Moms' Birthdays
Yes - that's right, it's not a typo - I meant Moms to be plural. Both Hubby and I have mothers with a birthday on August 5th. (Like it isn't enough to figure out how to fairly split holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas and Mother's Day - we have to pay attention to August 5 as well.)
Luckily, neither Mom pulls us in one direction or another and my Mom in particular is happy to make the trek to our house each year so we can all celebrate together.
This year, Mom arrived the day before her birthday and we teased her unmercifully about the last night of her 60's. Yes, my Mom is now a septogenarian. I can only hope that when I am 70 that I am in as good a shape. What does this septogenarian talk about? She talks like a 40-something like me. She worries about her weight, she talks about meeting friends for weekend trips and dinner, she is meeting with contractors to get new windows and siding for her home. She wears clothes cuter and trendier than mine. Other than the fact that she still refused to get her ears pierced (some kind of phobia), she is pretty fearless and is talking about trying parasailing in Florida this winter.
My Mother in Law? She is like the smart and savvy IT person in your company who is always reading about some new gadget and figuring out how to make it work. She knows more about the latest electronic toys and tools than I do AND knows how to use it. Other than helping her in digging the hole, she has worked on her own and built, stocked, and cared for a complicated Koi pond in her backyard that is a showpiece and requires some significant engineering and horticultural skill to maintain. The woman can barely see out of one eye, yet she can paint a pretty watercolor and read blogs and internet content for hours.
Of course we do not always see eye to eye. Have you ever known children and parents who do? But I have to say, I won the lottery on having women to admire as my Mom and Mother in Law.
Two active, interesting, smart, savvy, ladies who raised a couple of great kids (if we do say so ourselves)...
Luckily, neither Mom pulls us in one direction or another and my Mom in particular is happy to make the trek to our house each year so we can all celebrate together.
This year, Mom arrived the day before her birthday and we teased her unmercifully about the last night of her 60's. Yes, my Mom is now a septogenarian. I can only hope that when I am 70 that I am in as good a shape. What does this septogenarian talk about? She talks like a 40-something like me. She worries about her weight, she talks about meeting friends for weekend trips and dinner, she is meeting with contractors to get new windows and siding for her home. She wears clothes cuter and trendier than mine. Other than the fact that she still refused to get her ears pierced (some kind of phobia), she is pretty fearless and is talking about trying parasailing in Florida this winter.
My Mother in Law? She is like the smart and savvy IT person in your company who is always reading about some new gadget and figuring out how to make it work. She knows more about the latest electronic toys and tools than I do AND knows how to use it. Other than helping her in digging the hole, she has worked on her own and built, stocked, and cared for a complicated Koi pond in her backyard that is a showpiece and requires some significant engineering and horticultural skill to maintain. The woman can barely see out of one eye, yet she can paint a pretty watercolor and read blogs and internet content for hours.
Of course we do not always see eye to eye. Have you ever known children and parents who do? But I have to say, I won the lottery on having women to admire as my Mom and Mother in Law.
Two active, interesting, smart, savvy, ladies who raised a couple of great kids (if we do say so ourselves)...
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Leakage
This morning I awoke to the return of two journalists who had been held in captivity in Korea for the past 4 months. While initially the coverage was like watching paint dry as the stewards carried luggage up and down the jetway stairs, when the two women emerged and embraced their families my eyes began to leak. And I felt like I wouldn't be able to stop it. Every time I dashed away an overspilling tear, more rushed in.
Are you familiar with this syndrome? Where something touches you - something so not of your own life, family, or situation - and you cannot stop the emotions flooding through you? I've always been a sucker for this. I think this first came to light during the movement of emotional commercials on TV. Remember the Kodak memories commercials? Or how about the Coke and a smile series where they sang, 'I'd like to teach the world to sing..." One of the worst was that damn Folger's commercial with the guy comes home from college and makes coffee surprising his family at Christmas. And did all of that really start with the old Indian crying over pollution? Any one of these can still start my own personal water works show.
I am THE person they make tearjerker movies for. No matter how bad the movie, if there is a dramatic turn that is meant to pull the heartstrings, they will find mine and the eyes will tear and not stop until I allow a full-blown cry.
Most people who know me in person wouldn't guess this.
Neurotic?
Yes.
A little manic?
Sometimes.
Cynical?
Probably.
Sappy?
No (I don't think...)
But I am.
I can curl up with a horrible romance novel or an Oprah book club pick (although mostly I bypass those because they are truly depressing, not just emotional), and be transported. Recently I picked up an audio book series by an author I like and realized in the first chapter it was about vampires. Not my usual fare at all. But there was romance, drama, time travel, and I was hooked. Soon I was tearing up as the sidekick was bitten by the vampire and had to suffer a horrible fate worse than death (blah blah blah blah blah...) I know - sounds awful doesn't it? I mean who gets dragged into these things?
Me...obviously.
So now you know the dirty little secret of this hard-nosed marketing professional workaholic English major. I seek trash in books, movies, tv, and even commercials - and I leak...a lot.
Are you familiar with this syndrome? Where something touches you - something so not of your own life, family, or situation - and you cannot stop the emotions flooding through you? I've always been a sucker for this. I think this first came to light during the movement of emotional commercials on TV. Remember the Kodak memories commercials? Or how about the Coke and a smile series where they sang, 'I'd like to teach the world to sing..." One of the worst was that damn Folger's commercial with the guy comes home from college and makes coffee surprising his family at Christmas. And did all of that really start with the old Indian crying over pollution? Any one of these can still start my own personal water works show.
I am THE person they make tearjerker movies for. No matter how bad the movie, if there is a dramatic turn that is meant to pull the heartstrings, they will find mine and the eyes will tear and not stop until I allow a full-blown cry.
Most people who know me in person wouldn't guess this.
Neurotic?
Yes.
A little manic?
Sometimes.
Cynical?
Probably.
Sappy?
No (I don't think...)
But I am.
I can curl up with a horrible romance novel or an Oprah book club pick (although mostly I bypass those because they are truly depressing, not just emotional), and be transported. Recently I picked up an audio book series by an author I like and realized in the first chapter it was about vampires. Not my usual fare at all. But there was romance, drama, time travel, and I was hooked. Soon I was tearing up as the sidekick was bitten by the vampire and had to suffer a horrible fate worse than death (blah blah blah blah blah...) I know - sounds awful doesn't it? I mean who gets dragged into these things?
Me...obviously.
So now you know the dirty little secret of this hard-nosed marketing professional workaholic English major. I seek trash in books, movies, tv, and even commercials - and I leak...a lot.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A woman and her shoes
Last week, one of the VPs came to us with an odd question.
"What size shoe do you ladies wear."
Boss Lady and I exchanged a look and then I said...
"Whyyyyy??" (severe elevation of tone at the end of that one word question)
Blushing, he replied, "Well, I have to take a woman from [Merger Company] to a site visit and safety rules require that she wear hard soled shoes. She didn't bring any with her and I was hoping you might wear the same size."
Men don't get women and shoes. They don't get the fact that most women would NEVER loan out their shoes. Even ugly hard sole hiking shoes. They are OUR SHOES you know?? Also - asking a woman her shoe size - unless she is a perfect sample size 7 or smaller is like asking her weight or her age. Who's f-ing business is that anyway???
But, ever helpful Wenderina took a breath and proclaimed proudly, "I'm a 9...well maybe a 9 1/2. Ok....mostly I'm a 10." (and not in a Bo Derek kind of way).
"Good - she's a 9...that should work...can you bring in some shoes."
Well now I'm boxed in. Boss Lady had raised eyebrows and I could hear her projecting into my mind - "You got yourself into this....you get yourself out."
Needless to say, I didn't get myself out of it. So I came home, dug out my hard-soled hiking boots and realized they were dusty and grimy. I cleaned them and since they were a little damp put them out in the sun to dry.
This was a fine plan, until I went to sleep Saturday night and awoke to a Monsoon on Sunday. I grabbed the shoes and dried them with a towel and left them to dry....again. By Monday morning - the day of delivery - they were still damp but I determined leaving them in the car on a hot sunny day would quickly finish the drying job.
I reported to the VP I had, in fact, managed to remember the shoes and we could transfer them to his car later that day.
(you just know there's a kicker to this story right....oops no pun intended)
When I went out to my car later that day I opened the door and WHOA NELLY...I was knocked over by a noxious odor. I opened the bag with the shoes and took one out - it seemed fine....then I took the other out....
HOLY CRAP....or HOLY PISS is more like it.
Something had pissed in my shoe.
I debated about how to get out of this rather embarrassing situation. I had already reported I brought the shoes in. So - honesty was the policy of choice.
After relating my story, VP said, "Um...ok...I guess I'm going to Payless."
Why didn't I suggest that in the beginning? I don't know. But since he got ME to bring in my shoes...I said, "Since she's only wearing them once, you can bring them in and I'll take them when she's done."
A woman and her shoes, you know?
"What size shoe do you ladies wear."
Boss Lady and I exchanged a look and then I said...
"Whyyyyy??" (severe elevation of tone at the end of that one word question)
Blushing, he replied, "Well, I have to take a woman from [Merger Company] to a site visit and safety rules require that she wear hard soled shoes. She didn't bring any with her and I was hoping you might wear the same size."
Men don't get women and shoes. They don't get the fact that most women would NEVER loan out their shoes. Even ugly hard sole hiking shoes. They are OUR SHOES you know?? Also - asking a woman her shoe size - unless she is a perfect sample size 7 or smaller is like asking her weight or her age. Who's f-ing business is that anyway???
But, ever helpful Wenderina took a breath and proclaimed proudly, "I'm a 9...well maybe a 9 1/2. Ok....mostly I'm a 10." (and not in a Bo Derek kind of way).
"Good - she's a 9...that should work...can you bring in some shoes."
Well now I'm boxed in. Boss Lady had raised eyebrows and I could hear her projecting into my mind - "You got yourself into this....you get yourself out."
Needless to say, I didn't get myself out of it. So I came home, dug out my hard-soled hiking boots and realized they were dusty and grimy. I cleaned them and since they were a little damp put them out in the sun to dry.
This was a fine plan, until I went to sleep Saturday night and awoke to a Monsoon on Sunday. I grabbed the shoes and dried them with a towel and left them to dry....again. By Monday morning - the day of delivery - they were still damp but I determined leaving them in the car on a hot sunny day would quickly finish the drying job.
I reported to the VP I had, in fact, managed to remember the shoes and we could transfer them to his car later that day.
(you just know there's a kicker to this story right....oops no pun intended)
When I went out to my car later that day I opened the door and WHOA NELLY...I was knocked over by a noxious odor. I opened the bag with the shoes and took one out - it seemed fine....then I took the other out....
HOLY CRAP....or HOLY PISS is more like it.
Something had pissed in my shoe.
I debated about how to get out of this rather embarrassing situation. I had already reported I brought the shoes in. So - honesty was the policy of choice.
After relating my story, VP said, "Um...ok...I guess I'm going to Payless."
Why didn't I suggest that in the beginning? I don't know. But since he got ME to bring in my shoes...I said, "Since she's only wearing them once, you can bring them in and I'll take them when she's done."
A woman and her shoes, you know?
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Cooking Up a Storm
The title of this post was inspired by both today's horrific weather as well as two other timely media inputs to my life - the first the rapidly increasing commercials for Julie and Julia - which looks absolutely fabulous (thank you as always Ms. Streep) and the hilarious post today by the Matron over at Minnesota Matron.
Like the Matron, I was lucky enough to marry a man who cooks, and cooks well. Also like the Matron, I do not...not at all...or at the very least not at all well. When Hubby was doing the work/school thing and was rarely home, I was known to survive on several nights in a row of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or maybe a can of Campbell's soup. Unlike Julie and Julia, I neither have the desire to learn to cook a different dish every day, nor do I savor good cooking enough to excel in eating or ordering it. I'm usually about the convenience. Is it in the house? Can it be cooked in 15 minutes or less? Do I know all the names of the ingredients? Can it be savored sitting on the couch in front of the tv or is a tablecloth required?
In fact, one of the toughest questions I face each day is Hubby's email at mid-afternoon.
Ugh.
Can you believe I married a man who is willing to not only cook whatever I ask for, but also stop at the store on the way home and get any missing ingredients he might need, and I dread answering the question of what I want to eat?
I'm resolved, after reading the Matron's post and catching some of the reflected inspiration of Julie and Julia, not to mention feeling after nearly 20 years of marriage, Hubby deserves a break, that I will start to study cook books.
Don't get excited.
I will not be cooking.
But the least I can do is improve my ordering, right?
Next time he asks the question? I'll be ready with a more inventive answer.
How about Pretzel-Crusted Chicken with Honey Mustard Sauce p. 146 in the Sandra Lee Semi-Homemade Cooking Made Light cookbook. A spinach salad would be a great starter or side with this. Dessert can be just some simple berries with a little vanilla ice cream.
Then maybe Citrus Snapper with Orange Relish (p. 126, same cookbook) and some wild rice and cucumber salad on the side. Dessert could be fresh orange sherbet.
Perhaps Grilled Chicken with Grapefruit Salsa (p. 144) and some skewered veggies with balsamic vinegar. Dessert can be vanilla pudding with a dash of whipped cream.
Like the Matron, I was lucky enough to marry a man who cooks, and cooks well. Also like the Matron, I do not...not at all...or at the very least not at all well. When Hubby was doing the work/school thing and was rarely home, I was known to survive on several nights in a row of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or maybe a can of Campbell's soup. Unlike Julie and Julia, I neither have the desire to learn to cook a different dish every day, nor do I savor good cooking enough to excel in eating or ordering it. I'm usually about the convenience. Is it in the house? Can it be cooked in 15 minutes or less? Do I know all the names of the ingredients? Can it be savored sitting on the couch in front of the tv or is a tablecloth required?
In fact, one of the toughest questions I face each day is Hubby's email at mid-afternoon.
Re: Checking in.
Hi Babe - how's your day going? Any thoughts on what you'd
like for dinner tonight?
Ugh.
Can you believe I married a man who is willing to not only cook whatever I ask for, but also stop at the store on the way home and get any missing ingredients he might need, and I dread answering the question of what I want to eat?
I'm resolved, after reading the Matron's post and catching some of the reflected inspiration of Julie and Julia, not to mention feeling after nearly 20 years of marriage, Hubby deserves a break, that I will start to study cook books.
Don't get excited.
I will not be cooking.
But the least I can do is improve my ordering, right?
Next time he asks the question? I'll be ready with a more inventive answer.
How about Pretzel-Crusted Chicken with Honey Mustard Sauce p. 146 in the Sandra Lee Semi-Homemade Cooking Made Light cookbook. A spinach salad would be a great starter or side with this. Dessert can be just some simple berries with a little vanilla ice cream.
Then maybe Citrus Snapper with Orange Relish (p. 126, same cookbook) and some wild rice and cucumber salad on the side. Dessert could be fresh orange sherbet.
Perhaps Grilled Chicken with Grapefruit Salsa (p. 144) and some skewered veggies with balsamic vinegar. Dessert can be vanilla pudding with a dash of whipped cream.
And yes, Pork and Pear Saute with Lemon Vodka sauce (p. 109 Five Star Recipes from Weight Watchers) would go very nicely with an old fashioned iceberg lettuce wedge salad. Dessert could be a lemon sorbet.
Take that Julia! It may not have the butter content you would advocate, but I'm salivating already. Hope Hubby's ready for the challenge!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
You're Right, You're Right, I Know You're Right
Despite nearly 20 years of working with the same VP with whom I admittedly share a love-hate relationship, I am constantly learning the same lesson over and over again. That is, not to put the effort in (or worse request OTHERS to put the effort in) until I know exactly what VP wants or needs.
Yet again, it came down to about 36 hours before our deadline before VP's thoughts gelled on what he needed. This was after I vehemently defended his request when I recruited Amybow for help in herding the cats in our organization around VP's needs. I was confident I was on the same page with him. I was sure that even if we ended up in a slightly different end point, the essence of the research we were doing would be of value - for this assignment as well as others. I was adamant that Amybow stop questioning my direction and just get people moving.
I was wrong. Wrong. WRONG.
This morning VP arrived at 7:45AM bearing pastries for the start of our ALL DAY MEETING and walked into my cubicle and said, "This is what I want my presentation to be....X, Y, Z. "
"VP" I said, "Let me show you what we've done and what we've asked others to provide by tomorrow AM. Here it is as we discussed - A, B, C."
"That's all fine," insisted VP "but I want X, Y, Z."
At this point I began to get irritated (especially given the fact we would be in a meeting all day which is not conducive to producing deadline work)...but we moved into our meeting and I tried to ignore the feeling that Amybow had been right all along. At 2PM, after 6 hours of non-stop discussions in our meeting (unrelated to VP's pending assignment), VP shot me a panicked look and said, "We really need to work on my presentation". We ditched the meeting early with apologies and as we reviewed the presentation it was clear A, B, C was NOT acceptable to VP. As we progressed to outline X, Y, Z, I'm sure I became shrill, short, and not a little pissy. At one point VP put his head in his hands (and I believe he was counting to 10) when I said, "Would have been much better for everyone if we had this discussion last week when we started this."
Finally, as I cooled and he calmed, we started to laugh. More because of how irritated we had become at one another than at the task at hand - which is now annoyingly difficult for an imminent deadline. Snarky but humorous barbs were tossed back and forth to vent our frustration to one another in a healthier way. Sometimes the guy is like a really annoying older brother and I've already got my share of that.
As things settled out, I sought Amybow and proceeded to eat my words of yesterday. Today's mantra is: "You're right Amybow. You're right. I know you're right."
Yet again, it came down to about 36 hours before our deadline before VP's thoughts gelled on what he needed. This was after I vehemently defended his request when I recruited Amybow for help in herding the cats in our organization around VP's needs. I was confident I was on the same page with him. I was sure that even if we ended up in a slightly different end point, the essence of the research we were doing would be of value - for this assignment as well as others. I was adamant that Amybow stop questioning my direction and just get people moving.
I was wrong. Wrong. WRONG.
This morning VP arrived at 7:45AM bearing pastries for the start of our ALL DAY MEETING and walked into my cubicle and said, "This is what I want my presentation to be....X, Y, Z. "
"VP" I said, "Let me show you what we've done and what we've asked others to provide by tomorrow AM. Here it is as we discussed - A, B, C."
"That's all fine," insisted VP "but I want X, Y, Z."
At this point I began to get irritated (especially given the fact we would be in a meeting all day which is not conducive to producing deadline work)...but we moved into our meeting and I tried to ignore the feeling that Amybow had been right all along. At 2PM, after 6 hours of non-stop discussions in our meeting (unrelated to VP's pending assignment), VP shot me a panicked look and said, "We really need to work on my presentation". We ditched the meeting early with apologies and as we reviewed the presentation it was clear A, B, C was NOT acceptable to VP. As we progressed to outline X, Y, Z, I'm sure I became shrill, short, and not a little pissy. At one point VP put his head in his hands (and I believe he was counting to 10) when I said, "Would have been much better for everyone if we had this discussion last week when we started this."
Finally, as I cooled and he calmed, we started to laugh. More because of how irritated we had become at one another than at the task at hand - which is now annoyingly difficult for an imminent deadline. Snarky but humorous barbs were tossed back and forth to vent our frustration to one another in a healthier way. Sometimes the guy is like a really annoying older brother and I've already got my share of that.
As things settled out, I sought Amybow and proceeded to eat my words of yesterday. Today's mantra is: "You're right Amybow. You're right. I know you're right."
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Mastering the Graceful Exit
I've discovered that I have a brief window in my day where I might make for the door and get the hell out. Unfortunately, it is never the right time to leave the office, but rather mid-afternoon, 3:30ish. This brief window usually does NOT occur when my work is done, but rather when my patience is short and I find I'm more likely to be seeking a vending machine break, a blogging distraction, or some other nonsense.
When my mind re-engages, usually after a very short time, I find the next time I look up is about 7PM. Hubby usually calls around 6-ish and we talk about dinner menu and timing, evening errands, tasks, and plans. But then that inability to master the graceful exit rears it's head again. No matter what time I say I'm leaving, I'm nearly always off by 30-60 minutes...or more! Just one more task, just one more email, just one more list update...and on and on.
After several of these occasions, Hubby gave up taking me at my word (and I gave up giving it) and requested I call at the point where I am shutting off my computer and packing up. Then, after a few occasions where I ended up chatting with another late working colleague on my way out (usually Boss Lady), we now have a standing agreement that I call as I'm getting into my car.
I've tried the Franklin Covey approach. Have you ever taken one of their time management classes? They start with the whole jar with rocks story - you know the one.
"A teacher has a jar and he fills it with large rocks. He asks his students, can I get anything more in this jar? The answer from his students - No! He then takes out a bag of pebbles and adds them to the jar, proving them wrong. He asks his students again, can I get anything more into this jar? The answer from his students - Definitely not! He then takes out a bag of sand and pours it into the jar. Again, he asks, can I get anything else in this jar? The answer from his students - Not possible for sure! He then takes out a pitcher of water and pours it into the jar. What is the lesson here?"
My answer to that little parable was - "You can always fit more in the jar!"
Obvious right? I'm so brilliant, right?
WRONG!
No, the real answer is, the big rocks represent the important things. And if you don't put them in FIRST you'll never get the important things done"
um..yeah...
I missed that.
So anyway, sometimes after my 3:30 break, there's still those big rocks (and some pebbles, sand and water) to deal with....but somehow, someday, some way I'll figure out how to master the graceful exit.
When my mind re-engages, usually after a very short time, I find the next time I look up is about 7PM. Hubby usually calls around 6-ish and we talk about dinner menu and timing, evening errands, tasks, and plans. But then that inability to master the graceful exit rears it's head again. No matter what time I say I'm leaving, I'm nearly always off by 30-60 minutes...or more! Just one more task, just one more email, just one more list update...and on and on.
After several of these occasions, Hubby gave up taking me at my word (and I gave up giving it) and requested I call at the point where I am shutting off my computer and packing up. Then, after a few occasions where I ended up chatting with another late working colleague on my way out (usually Boss Lady), we now have a standing agreement that I call as I'm getting into my car.
I've tried the Franklin Covey approach. Have you ever taken one of their time management classes? They start with the whole jar with rocks story - you know the one.
"A teacher has a jar and he fills it with large rocks. He asks his students, can I get anything more in this jar? The answer from his students - No! He then takes out a bag of pebbles and adds them to the jar, proving them wrong. He asks his students again, can I get anything more into this jar? The answer from his students - Definitely not! He then takes out a bag of sand and pours it into the jar. Again, he asks, can I get anything else in this jar? The answer from his students - Not possible for sure! He then takes out a pitcher of water and pours it into the jar. What is the lesson here?"
My answer to that little parable was - "You can always fit more in the jar!"
Obvious right? I'm so brilliant, right?
WRONG!
No, the real answer is, the big rocks represent the important things. And if you don't put them in FIRST you'll never get the important things done"
um..yeah...
I missed that.
So anyway, sometimes after my 3:30 break, there's still those big rocks (and some pebbles, sand and water) to deal with....but somehow, someday, some way I'll figure out how to master the graceful exit.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Hazy Days
Looking up the Bartles & Jaymes ad for my last post sure took me back. All the way back to my college years and the many hazy memories I have from overindulging in those two gentleman's brew (and anything else I could get my hands on).
I was a good girl 'til I got to college. Never drank, never smoked, never broke curfew, never had sex... in fact, playing "I never" (the old drinking game) with me in college was pretty boring because I couldn't say "I never did [fill in anything interesting]"!
Imagine my surprise when my first night of college I began my drinking career. My roommate, who was stunned I had not ever consumed an alcoholic beverage, offered to mix me something easy and light. Her version of easy and light? Two-thirds vodka, one-third Sprite. One glass of that firewater concoction and I was on my ass.
After that, she suggested Bartles and Jaymes - soda pop "with a kick" and those wine coolers became my drink of choice. We spent more time that first year trying to get drunk than we did any other endeavor, including classes. My first semester I made it work. My second? My grades dropped to such a level that I found myself on academic probation and changing my major. I've never regreted leaving Accounting behind for a Liberal Arts degree in English/Psychology, but I do regret the damage that semester did to my overal GPA.
Friends who have met me in the last 15 years don't believe I ever was a drinker. Nowadays, the once a month single cocktail is about all I consume. And if I'm driving - I rarely even have that. They don't believe that without vodka and cherry kool-aid I never would have had the gumption to hook up with my someday husband. They don't believe I ever made out with a guy on a dance floor and had no idea what his name was, all I knew was the nickname on the back of his football jersey (Thumper). They don't believe I regularly slept through my morning classes. They don't believe I have a letter in my "permanent record" that came from a druken water fight that started with water pistols and ended with garbage cans of water that created cascading waterfalls 3 floors down in the dorm.
They don't believe that one night, a couple of years out of college, that I drove home from a party severely impaired, realized I shouldn't be behind the wheel at all and started crying halfway home, and got out of the car and kissed the ground when I somehow arrived home safely. They don't believe that I would ever have been so out of it that I couldn't have figured out pulling over and sleeping it off was a possible solution. They just don't believe that I ever lost my footing, my judgment, my senses, and could have lost my life or someone else's in a drunken haze.
But I did. Yessir, Mr. Bartles & Mr. Jaymes, I surely did.
I was a good girl 'til I got to college. Never drank, never smoked, never broke curfew, never had sex... in fact, playing "I never" (the old drinking game) with me in college was pretty boring because I couldn't say "I never did [fill in anything interesting]"!
Imagine my surprise when my first night of college I began my drinking career. My roommate, who was stunned I had not ever consumed an alcoholic beverage, offered to mix me something easy and light. Her version of easy and light? Two-thirds vodka, one-third Sprite. One glass of that firewater concoction and I was on my ass.
After that, she suggested Bartles and Jaymes - soda pop "with a kick" and those wine coolers became my drink of choice. We spent more time that first year trying to get drunk than we did any other endeavor, including classes. My first semester I made it work. My second? My grades dropped to such a level that I found myself on academic probation and changing my major. I've never regreted leaving Accounting behind for a Liberal Arts degree in English/Psychology, but I do regret the damage that semester did to my overal GPA.
Friends who have met me in the last 15 years don't believe I ever was a drinker. Nowadays, the once a month single cocktail is about all I consume. And if I'm driving - I rarely even have that. They don't believe that without vodka and cherry kool-aid I never would have had the gumption to hook up with my someday husband. They don't believe I ever made out with a guy on a dance floor and had no idea what his name was, all I knew was the nickname on the back of his football jersey (Thumper). They don't believe I regularly slept through my morning classes. They don't believe I have a letter in my "permanent record" that came from a druken water fight that started with water pistols and ended with garbage cans of water that created cascading waterfalls 3 floors down in the dorm.
They don't believe that one night, a couple of years out of college, that I drove home from a party severely impaired, realized I shouldn't be behind the wheel at all and started crying halfway home, and got out of the car and kissed the ground when I somehow arrived home safely. They don't believe that I would ever have been so out of it that I couldn't have figured out pulling over and sleeping it off was a possible solution. They just don't believe that I ever lost my footing, my judgment, my senses, and could have lost my life or someone else's in a drunken haze.
But I did. Yessir, Mr. Bartles & Mr. Jaymes, I surely did.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Thank You Again, For Your Support
I have to say, if you want to have a pity party, start with the blogging community. They are such a supportive, caring bunch...they are almost enablers. I have a small readership (or at least a small "commentership" so I'm appreciative of the comments I do get supporting me in my stressful, sick, or downtrodden moments, but if you review some of the other blogs it can get really overwhelming!
Over the past two years that I have been blogging and reading other blogs, I've noticed a trend of writing I can only call NEEDY. And I've begun to wonder if blogging is so popular because people who normally don't feel heard, appreciated, cared for, commiserated with, etc. have finally found a place where they can complain and wallow and get all the support they desire from an anonymous gang of like-thinkers.
Don't get me wrong! In this cold world, it sure is nice to know there are absolute strangers out there caring about my vertigo, my late work hours, my stress, my angst, my cats, and my hubby. It's hard to feel alone when kind people take the time to read your random thoughts and add an "atta girl" to your life.
But for those of you who may worry about me (MOM this means you!)...don't. Despite my battles with anxious moments, which have at times driven me to a sleepless night or two, or to seek some heartburn medication, I'm in pretty good shape. I'm coming to terms with actually being content with my life. And I continue to find a little wry humor in my mental and physical reactions to anxiety....I mean it is really ridiculous sometimes you know?
Why am I writing about this today? I had some lovely comments in my last post about my Dizzy Dame situation. What I thought was kind of funny and kooky and all, generated some sweet - "feel betters" and some concern from my Mom.
All I can say is, you all are the best. Really. And when I REALLY need you, I expect you all to be there. But for now...be assured I'm doing just fine. I'll try to keep the whining to a minimum...and if I do whine, try and find the humor in it. I'd rather you laugh AT me, than cry WITH me.
Over the past two years that I have been blogging and reading other blogs, I've noticed a trend of writing I can only call NEEDY. And I've begun to wonder if blogging is so popular because people who normally don't feel heard, appreciated, cared for, commiserated with, etc. have finally found a place where they can complain and wallow and get all the support they desire from an anonymous gang of like-thinkers.
Don't get me wrong! In this cold world, it sure is nice to know there are absolute strangers out there caring about my vertigo, my late work hours, my stress, my angst, my cats, and my hubby. It's hard to feel alone when kind people take the time to read your random thoughts and add an "atta girl" to your life.
But for those of you who may worry about me (MOM this means you!)...don't. Despite my battles with anxious moments, which have at times driven me to a sleepless night or two, or to seek some heartburn medication, I'm in pretty good shape. I'm coming to terms with actually being content with my life. And I continue to find a little wry humor in my mental and physical reactions to anxiety....I mean it is really ridiculous sometimes you know?
Why am I writing about this today? I had some lovely comments in my last post about my Dizzy Dame situation. What I thought was kind of funny and kooky and all, generated some sweet - "feel betters" and some concern from my Mom.
All I can say is, you all are the best. Really. And when I REALLY need you, I expect you all to be there. But for now...be assured I'm doing just fine. I'll try to keep the whining to a minimum...and if I do whine, try and find the humor in it. I'd rather you laugh AT me, than cry WITH me.
And in the immortal words of those wise sages, Bartles & Jaymes, "Thank you again, for your support."
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Dizzy Dame
So for the past week I've been experiencing some light twinges of vertigo. Not like Hubby's bout a while ago where he was nauseated and unable to stand upright without help, but just that kind of "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" - "Whoa Dude..." kind of feeling. Drunk without the drink. A natural high. Dizzy dame syndrome.
Dr. thinks I have a sinus infection that has congested my ear. I'm on meds and trying to clear it up....but knowing it isn't likely anything serious just makes it something I have to sort out each day.
I wake up and sit up...carefully.
Then I move my head in a number of different directions, turning, tilting, nodding, shaking until I figure out my new trigger positions for the day. Usually it is a position that I can easily avoid to make walking, driving, working, all very safe. Today's position was a straight tip forward of the chin...low enough that it is only if I am looking upward at the computer screen with chin tilted down toward chest that it generates a reaction.
It's actually been kind of a trip. To be able to know the right position that triggers it and check it out every so often and feel the world tilt, just a little. Kind of cool. I guess it's the coolest because I can set it right again with a smooth position change.
I feel it will be coming to an end sometime soon. Every time I yawn my ears crack, so things are breaking up in there. Just a few more days to be a Dizzy Dame....legitimately at least.
Hey - no comments from the peanut gallery.
Dr. thinks I have a sinus infection that has congested my ear. I'm on meds and trying to clear it up....but knowing it isn't likely anything serious just makes it something I have to sort out each day.
I wake up and sit up...carefully.
Then I move my head in a number of different directions, turning, tilting, nodding, shaking until I figure out my new trigger positions for the day. Usually it is a position that I can easily avoid to make walking, driving, working, all very safe. Today's position was a straight tip forward of the chin...low enough that it is only if I am looking upward at the computer screen with chin tilted down toward chest that it generates a reaction.
It's actually been kind of a trip. To be able to know the right position that triggers it and check it out every so often and feel the world tilt, just a little. Kind of cool. I guess it's the coolest because I can set it right again with a smooth position change.
I feel it will be coming to an end sometime soon. Every time I yawn my ears crack, so things are breaking up in there. Just a few more days to be a Dizzy Dame....legitimately at least.
Hey - no comments from the peanut gallery.
Monday, July 20, 2009
It's a Movie, not a Book
On Sunday we got out to see the latest Harry Potter movie. We do love the series (book and movies) but we were concerned about this movie because of all the negative fan comments
I'm happy to say, probably in no small part due to the low expectations we had going in, we were pleasantly surprised to enjoy it thoroughly! As for all of the complaining fans, of course it isn't like the book people! It's a movie! The book is 700 pages long! Take it for what it is and enjoy it and stop going on and on about missing characters and the fact that page 542, Paragraph 3, is not in the movie.
The film was beautiful - a great marriage of computer graphics and cinematography - it made the film. The quidditch match, the Weasley joke shop, the Hogwarts grounds and castle - fantastic. And while, as usual, it felt a little choppy hopping from scene to scene because there is little time for segues, the scenes themselves were mostly little jewels. Jim Broadbent was very good, particularly in the one scene at Hagrid's house.
I'll be going back to the book now that I've digested the movie - just to remind myself of what was missed, but not to complain about it. Looking forward to the last movie (I hear there will be two to try and capture more of the 800 pages...and no doubt double the money too).
I'm happy to say, probably in no small part due to the low expectations we had going in, we were pleasantly surprised to enjoy it thoroughly! As for all of the complaining fans, of course it isn't like the book people! It's a movie! The book is 700 pages long! Take it for what it is and enjoy it and stop going on and on about missing characters and the fact that page 542, Paragraph 3, is not in the movie.
The film was beautiful - a great marriage of computer graphics and cinematography - it made the film. The quidditch match, the Weasley joke shop, the Hogwarts grounds and castle - fantastic. And while, as usual, it felt a little choppy hopping from scene to scene because there is little time for segues, the scenes themselves were mostly little jewels. Jim Broadbent was very good, particularly in the one scene at Hagrid's house.
I'll be going back to the book now that I've digested the movie - just to remind myself of what was missed, but not to complain about it. Looking forward to the last movie (I hear there will be two to try and capture more of the 800 pages...and no doubt double the money too).
Saturday, July 18, 2009
When a Friend is Sad
I have a friend that came to me through Hubby. In many ways she is like a twin to me. Our likes and dislikes, the very near overlapping of our birthdays, our careers, our love of theatre and old things, our love for quiet artistic men (like my Hubby and hers), and our enjoyment of an occasional fruit juice and vodka concoction. Because of schedules and well, just life, we see each other rarely - a few times a year, maybe a little more. When we are together we laugh a lot. Because she is funny and quirky and sweet and smart and all those things that make a great friend. But my friend often suffers. My friend is often sad.
She has burdens that are both physical and emotional. She has scars. She has pain. She has troubles. She never lets it overcome her - at least not in my presence - but she suffers and we see it. And I struggle, because I like to solve problems and she has problems I cannot solve.
Last night we talked. We talked medicine and theory. We talked stress and economy. We talked of work and life. We talked of weather and food. We talked of houses and gardens and chores. We talked of travel and music. We talked about baby showers and bridal showers and family.
Her voice spoke lightly, but I heard the strain.
Tonight we are going, with our sweet artistic hubbies, to see a local photographer's slide show under the stars. We'll talk and laugh and enjoy the art together. We'll grab a bite and a drink at a nearby tavern afterwards. We'll part at the end and see each other again in a few weeks, or more likely months. And I won't really have been able to help her. And she won't really burden me with her troubles. But I'll feel her pain.
We'll part as always with a long, lingering embrace. And all I can hope is she'll feel my support.
She has burdens that are both physical and emotional. She has scars. She has pain. She has troubles. She never lets it overcome her - at least not in my presence - but she suffers and we see it. And I struggle, because I like to solve problems and she has problems I cannot solve.
Last night we talked. We talked medicine and theory. We talked stress and economy. We talked of work and life. We talked of weather and food. We talked of houses and gardens and chores. We talked of travel and music. We talked about baby showers and bridal showers and family.
Her voice spoke lightly, but I heard the strain.
Tonight we are going, with our sweet artistic hubbies, to see a local photographer's slide show under the stars. We'll talk and laugh and enjoy the art together. We'll grab a bite and a drink at a nearby tavern afterwards. We'll part at the end and see each other again in a few weeks, or more likely months. And I won't really have been able to help her. And she won't really burden me with her troubles. But I'll feel her pain.
We'll part as always with a long, lingering embrace. And all I can hope is she'll feel my support.
Friday, July 17, 2009
New Mantra: I HATE PROCESS
So, our new merger partner is big on PROCESS. I recognize that a larger company (they have more than 14,000 worldwide, compared to our measly 1,800) needs to have standards of practice. In fact, given the fact that my job over the years has been more about constant reinventing of the wheel and starting from scratch than efficient decision-making, I've been a proponent of process. HOWEVER, there's process and there's PROCESS.
I spent more than 4 hours in the last two days with 6 people on conference calls to figure out our message to the marketplace. Correction, to figure out our recommendation to our Board of our message to the marketplace. By the end, we had created a weaker, undesigned version of a sample advertorial I did ALL BY MYSELF 5 weeks ago. This is not the efficiency I hoped to get from process.
Prudence stops me from saying much more. I mean even though my real name still doesn't link with this site or find me in a direct Google Search, there are enough pointers that I could be found by an internet savvy person.
This is all about growing pains, learning curves, and integration. This is all about understanding one another's businesses, methodologies, practicies. This is all about creating elbow room and new boundaries. This is all about PROCESS.
And did I mention my new mantra? Oh yeah, I HATE PROCESS.
I spent more than 4 hours in the last two days with 6 people on conference calls to figure out our message to the marketplace. Correction, to figure out our recommendation to our Board of our message to the marketplace. By the end, we had created a weaker, undesigned version of a sample advertorial I did ALL BY MYSELF 5 weeks ago. This is not the efficiency I hoped to get from process.
Prudence stops me from saying much more. I mean even though my real name still doesn't link with this site or find me in a direct Google Search, there are enough pointers that I could be found by an internet savvy person.
This is all about growing pains, learning curves, and integration. This is all about understanding one another's businesses, methodologies, practicies. This is all about creating elbow room and new boundaries. This is all about PROCESS.
And did I mention my new mantra? Oh yeah, I HATE PROCESS.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Backseat Driving
Aha! So PROACTIVE is returning to favor in our little merger story. Yesterday, feeling admittedly a little forlorn and relegated to the back seat, I called my VP and said, "You know, we're missing the 'bounce' opportunity here." He asked me to explain, whereby I spent a good 20 minutes (keeping him from going to happy hour by the way) talking about how the attention span of the marketplace was short and that all our clients are hearing right now is the whisperings of our competitors. "We need to grab the spotlight and use this brief window to get our value message out there!" He agreed and took it to our CEO (who luckily retains some significant power in our merged organization).
Today, we were able to turn the tides. We shouted "We are being PROACTIVE!!" proudly and we're getting positive results. We have a meeting set with our new merger partner's head of marketing where we plan to slap him around a little. AND we were asked by the new Board of Directors to prepare a branding/advertising/communications plan for their meeting next week to make the most of the 'bounce'.
Just goes to show you (and Hubby will agree) I drive from the backseat too.
Today, we were able to turn the tides. We shouted "We are being PROACTIVE!!" proudly and we're getting positive results. We have a meeting set with our new merger partner's head of marketing where we plan to slap him around a little. AND we were asked by the new Board of Directors to prepare a branding/advertising/communications plan for their meeting next week to make the most of the 'bounce'.
Just goes to show you (and Hubby will agree) I drive from the backseat too.
Monday, July 13, 2009
When Proactive is a Bad Word...
As we progress into our merger we are facing a 24 month integration period. I can't decide if that is a nice gradual pace for change....or just pure torture. It could be like ripping a band-aid off hair by hair...in the pubic area...
Let me preface the next bit (for those of you who are my colleagues...) by saying I still believe this is going to be a pretty cool end result and that 99.99% of the people I've met on the other side of the fence are pretty great.
Last week we met with the Integration leadership team. Where they used words like curious and proactive as if they were actually words like annoying or insane.
"We appreciate that your team has been so....PROACTIVE [read annoying]...in your activities so far. Now is the time for us to slow down as we make plans for our future."
"You certainly are a CURIOUS [read insane] bunch - the most CURIOUS [read really insane] group we've worked with so far."
When you are used to charting your own course, it's tough to give up the navigation...or to start having to call in to port every 5 minutes to get an ok. Things that used to be autonomous may likely require committee approvals now. While I freely admit, our company has needed some structure and discipline, bureacracy it already has...in spades.
So...the integration begins. And the first hairs are being yanked out today. Stay tuned.
Let me preface the next bit (for those of you who are my colleagues...) by saying I still believe this is going to be a pretty cool end result and that 99.99% of the people I've met on the other side of the fence are pretty great.
Last week we met with the Integration leadership team. Where they used words like curious and proactive as if they were actually words like annoying or insane.
"We appreciate that your team has been so....PROACTIVE [read annoying]...in your activities so far. Now is the time for us to slow down as we make plans for our future."
"You certainly are a CURIOUS [read insane] bunch - the most CURIOUS [read really insane] group we've worked with so far."
When you are used to charting your own course, it's tough to give up the navigation...or to start having to call in to port every 5 minutes to get an ok. Things that used to be autonomous may likely require committee approvals now. While I freely admit, our company has needed some structure and discipline, bureacracy it already has...in spades.
So...the integration begins. And the first hairs are being yanked out today. Stay tuned.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Say It Ain't So...
At the end of the work day today, my VP came to Boss Lady's desk (where I had parked for an end of day recap) and said, "Well, it's done." He was speaking of course of THE MERGER. (Did you really think I would link you to the actual press release and tell you where I work?)
Anyway....
After saying this jubilantly, he high fived both BL and me and headed upstairs to pick up some paperwork he needed to sign.
BL and I sat quietly, still talking of some of the details of our events and communications that will finish out the week, while jointly absorbing the good, the bad, and the ugly from the first meeting we had held with the new integration team from the 'other' company.
After a few minutes, VP returned but with a little less bounce in his step. He came back to our huddle, grasping his papers, and said with a puzzled look, "I don't know...I almost feel like crying...or should I be celebrating?" BL quickly replied, "Celebrate! You worked hard for this."
Not long afterward, VP called me from his car. He was still in disbelief. Despite the fact that he and I have been working on this for more than a year, that we both believe it is the right choice for our firm, the reality feels...well...suddenly real.
Within moments of that call, BL stopped at my desk on her way out and told me that while writing an email to our integration manager, she had begun to cry. Suddenly she was feeling the evidence of the change in our fates. We are much smaller fish in a much larger pond now. We are no longer masters of our own domain - trusted to decide without questioning. We must report and wait for approvals that were never needed before. It is truly the end of an era.
Between us we have 65 years at this company. VP has 30, I have nearly 20 and BL has 15. We've grown up and grown old(er) in this place with these people. I believe a good percentage of these people will still be here at the end of the 2 year integration period...but undoubtedly some will not. And for those that remain, we may find ourselves working in different departments, different buildings, different states, different countries...
When I coached our CEO for his presentation to all staff tomorrow, I stressed, "At the end, please be sure to pause for BOTH REFLECTION AND CELEBRATION....we need to recognize our history before we jump into our future." I hope he heard me. Because watching those of us tonight who had known what was coming take what felt like a body blow from the actual final mind shift of the deal closing gives me just a small glimpse of where 1783 people will be tomorrow.
And, despite our best intentions, I don't think the barbecued ribs and lemonade in the parking lot or the day-glo orange beanie baby lizards (the new company logo), are really going to help. In fact, I predict some nasty things in the future for those lizards. They just scream voodoo doll.
Anyway....
After saying this jubilantly, he high fived both BL and me and headed upstairs to pick up some paperwork he needed to sign.
BL and I sat quietly, still talking of some of the details of our events and communications that will finish out the week, while jointly absorbing the good, the bad, and the ugly from the first meeting we had held with the new integration team from the 'other' company.
After a few minutes, VP returned but with a little less bounce in his step. He came back to our huddle, grasping his papers, and said with a puzzled look, "I don't know...I almost feel like crying...or should I be celebrating?" BL quickly replied, "Celebrate! You worked hard for this."
Not long afterward, VP called me from his car. He was still in disbelief. Despite the fact that he and I have been working on this for more than a year, that we both believe it is the right choice for our firm, the reality feels...well...suddenly real.
Within moments of that call, BL stopped at my desk on her way out and told me that while writing an email to our integration manager, she had begun to cry. Suddenly she was feeling the evidence of the change in our fates. We are much smaller fish in a much larger pond now. We are no longer masters of our own domain - trusted to decide without questioning. We must report and wait for approvals that were never needed before. It is truly the end of an era.
Between us we have 65 years at this company. VP has 30, I have nearly 20 and BL has 15. We've grown up and grown old(er) in this place with these people. I believe a good percentage of these people will still be here at the end of the 2 year integration period...but undoubtedly some will not. And for those that remain, we may find ourselves working in different departments, different buildings, different states, different countries...
When I coached our CEO for his presentation to all staff tomorrow, I stressed, "At the end, please be sure to pause for BOTH REFLECTION AND CELEBRATION....we need to recognize our history before we jump into our future." I hope he heard me. Because watching those of us tonight who had known what was coming take what felt like a body blow from the actual final mind shift of the deal closing gives me just a small glimpse of where 1783 people will be tomorrow.
And, despite our best intentions, I don't think the barbecued ribs and lemonade in the parking lot or the day-glo orange beanie baby lizards (the new company logo), are really going to help. In fact, I predict some nasty things in the future for those lizards. They just scream voodoo doll.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Living Up to My Reputation
Remember that great ad campaign?
Egg.
This is your brain.
Frying Pan.
This is drugs.
Cracked Egg in Frying Pan sizzling away.
This is your brain on drugs.
Substitute "Job" for drugs and you've got my brain of late. It's a damn good think my parents filled up my being with lots of common sense, intuition, and guts because that's what I'm operating on right now. The synapse firing part of my brain?
Shot.To.Hell.
So what might drive fear into my soul the most right now? A request by Mrs. G. to write for her world renowned website - the Women's Colony.
Her actual request to me:
"mrs. g. here. would you consider writing about your experiences in the working world..being a strong woman who makes her own way. Think about it. Many readers have expressed an interest in this kind of story, advice. Thank you, W"
A strong woman who makes her own way!
I think Mrs. G. just wrote my epitaph. Or perhaps she wrote the title of a highly fictionalized autobiography. Depends on the day I guess.
Wenderina is putting on her thinking cap. Twisting her mind to speak in the third person as Mrs. G does and seeking inspiration in her addled brain.
But for tonight?
Frying Pan.
Egg.
Egg.
This is your brain.
Frying Pan.
This is drugs.
Cracked Egg in Frying Pan sizzling away.
This is your brain on drugs.
Substitute "Job" for drugs and you've got my brain of late. It's a damn good think my parents filled up my being with lots of common sense, intuition, and guts because that's what I'm operating on right now. The synapse firing part of my brain?
Shot.To.Hell.
So what might drive fear into my soul the most right now? A request by Mrs. G. to write for her world renowned website - the Women's Colony.
Her actual request to me:
"mrs. g. here. would you consider writing about your experiences in the working world..being a strong woman who makes her own way. Think about it. Many readers have expressed an interest in this kind of story, advice. Thank you, W"
A strong woman who makes her own way!
I think Mrs. G. just wrote my epitaph. Or perhaps she wrote the title of a highly fictionalized autobiography. Depends on the day I guess.
Wenderina is putting on her thinking cap. Twisting her mind to speak in the third person as Mrs. G does and seeking inspiration in her addled brain.
But for tonight?
Frying Pan.
Egg.
Friday, July 3, 2009
The News Is Out....Finally
So...for the past year, I've been anxious over ONE DOMINANT THING. But I couldn't share here as I was sworn to secrecy. Literally. I signed a document and everything. Are you ready? Are you set? Go!
(hushed reverent tone)..The secret is M E R G E R !!!!
Yup. My 100+ year independent privately held company (not really "My company" but you know, I've been here for 19 years) is merging with a publicly traded foreign owned company almost 10 times our size.
Things they are a'changing.
It was almost unbearable keeping this secret from my friends and colleagues at work for the past year (+). It totally dominated my time at work, but I still had a day job to do and people counting on me that wouldn't know why I couldn't get their work done. Is it any wonder blogging fell to the bottom of the pile? Hell sleep fell to the bottom of the pile.
So now the secret is out. As of June 25th I was freed. Why, then you may ask, has it taken more than a week for me to shout it from the blog rooftops? Well, I thought life would slow down after the announcement, but I forgot - I'm in communications and marketing - so who gets to work on all of the announcements, events, FAQs, intranet content, client outreach, print materials, conference calls, etc? That's right - ME! The only difference is now I have my whole team in it with me...thank god...
Yesterday my team and I got to call 60 offices to arrange an event on Friday of next week for "Day One" of the new merged company. The logistics of arranging all offices for a single call /presentation by our President and the new parent company's CEO, as well as helping with the whole food/tent/budget/detail stuff is mind boggling.
But that's life.
So...what's next? Well, keeping our jobs is tops on the list. Figuring out where all the bodies are buried in the new place is going to be an effort. Understanding the new political underbelly should be interesting. Truth be told, it is as exciting as it is scary - making for a wonderful cocktail of anxiety for Wenderina. Luckily, on most days, I'm too tired and busy to ponder it for very long...but on those occasions when the mind starts clicking...watch out.
(hushed reverent tone)..The secret is M E R G E R !!!!
Yup. My 100+ year independent privately held company (not really "My company" but you know, I've been here for 19 years) is merging with a publicly traded foreign owned company almost 10 times our size.
Things they are a'changing.
It was almost unbearable keeping this secret from my friends and colleagues at work for the past year (+). It totally dominated my time at work, but I still had a day job to do and people counting on me that wouldn't know why I couldn't get their work done. Is it any wonder blogging fell to the bottom of the pile? Hell sleep fell to the bottom of the pile.
So now the secret is out. As of June 25th I was freed. Why, then you may ask, has it taken more than a week for me to shout it from the blog rooftops? Well, I thought life would slow down after the announcement, but I forgot - I'm in communications and marketing - so who gets to work on all of the announcements, events, FAQs, intranet content, client outreach, print materials, conference calls, etc? That's right - ME! The only difference is now I have my whole team in it with me...thank god...
Yesterday my team and I got to call 60 offices to arrange an event on Friday of next week for "Day One" of the new merged company. The logistics of arranging all offices for a single call /presentation by our President and the new parent company's CEO, as well as helping with the whole food/tent/budget/detail stuff is mind boggling.
But that's life.
So...what's next? Well, keeping our jobs is tops on the list. Figuring out where all the bodies are buried in the new place is going to be an effort. Understanding the new political underbelly should be interesting. Truth be told, it is as exciting as it is scary - making for a wonderful cocktail of anxiety for Wenderina. Luckily, on most days, I'm too tired and busy to ponder it for very long...but on those occasions when the mind starts clicking...watch out.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Tourists
Last weekend, while hosting the bride to be and two other maids...we finished our dress duties early and headed into the big city. The maids had never been and as was typical they spent much of their time looking up. It really is amazing how much vertical storage of people, places and things exist in NYC.
And it always amazes me that although the city is a little more than an hour away by train (and less if I decide to play kamikaze driver with the taxis) we never go in unless we're playing tourist with friends and family.
Even on a dreary rainy day, the city never disappoints.
On your mark, get set (first one to hit a pedestrian scores 20 pts)
Great backdrop/view from the M+M store in Time Square.
I like the new pedestrian way in Time Square, but
what is UP with all the people in the lawn chairs?
what is UP with all the people in the lawn chairs?
Plus none of them were talking -
it was like a statue display in a strange museum.
it was like a statue display in a strange museum.
You gotta do the street vendor thing.
That guy is saying, "Look, it's a bird, it's a plane...."
We didn't go to the top - but we at least made it to the ground floor.
What else? The Empire State.
Event a standpipe can do in a pinch when your feet are sore from walking.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Dear Dad
Dear Dad:
It's another of those days - those days that remind me you are no longer here. You'd be disappointed to hear that I worked today, as did Hubby, because our jobs are completely out of control right now. You'd be more disappointed to know that we cancelled celebrating with my other Dad - Hubby's Dad - because of work.
But I remember that you also understood. I remember you getting up in the middle of the night to answer the call from your job. I remember you working hard and rarely complaining. I remember you and Mom always being sure that we were safe, warm, fed, clothed, and happy.
I believe that you and Mom gave me the best life possible. And I know, because of this, I'm a happier person today. I guess life wasn't perfect. I guess we were like most families - a functioning dysfunction of a sort. But I can honestly say I don't remember any unhappiness as a child. My only regret is that my half-siblings, your kids, couldn't have known the stability and love that you and Mom were able to give me. I know that was a regret you had to live with too.
I hope you felt you lived a good life. I hope you felt loved not only on Father's Day, but every day. Because you were. For all the imperfections you had, for all the imperfections I had, I knew you loved me and I hope you knew I loved you too.
It's been six years since you left us Dad, but you are in my thoughts always. And every decision I make always involves a consideration of what you and Mom taught me and the values you instilled in me. Because of this, I believe I've always? well...often...taken the right turn.
Thank you Dad.
Love you.
W.
It's another of those days - those days that remind me you are no longer here. You'd be disappointed to hear that I worked today, as did Hubby, because our jobs are completely out of control right now. You'd be more disappointed to know that we cancelled celebrating with my other Dad - Hubby's Dad - because of work.
But I remember that you also understood. I remember you getting up in the middle of the night to answer the call from your job. I remember you working hard and rarely complaining. I remember you and Mom always being sure that we were safe, warm, fed, clothed, and happy.
I believe that you and Mom gave me the best life possible. And I know, because of this, I'm a happier person today. I guess life wasn't perfect. I guess we were like most families - a functioning dysfunction of a sort. But I can honestly say I don't remember any unhappiness as a child. My only regret is that my half-siblings, your kids, couldn't have known the stability and love that you and Mom were able to give me. I know that was a regret you had to live with too.
I hope you felt you lived a good life. I hope you felt loved not only on Father's Day, but every day. Because you were. For all the imperfections you had, for all the imperfections I had, I knew you loved me and I hope you knew I loved you too.
It's been six years since you left us Dad, but you are in my thoughts always. And every decision I make always involves a consideration of what you and Mom taught me and the values you instilled in me. Because of this, I believe I've always? well...often...taken the right turn.
Thank you Dad.
Love you.
W.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Night Out with a Friend
After many late nights of work - and many weekend days at work - I made time tonight (since Hubby is working even crazier hours than me right now) to meet up with a friend for a girls night out. Nothing big - we went to the Paramus Park mall (known as Mecca by many a local girl) looking for some summer duds for a wedding on Block Island that my friend is attending. Rather than a time consuming or pricey meal - we ate at the food court (and survived it).
It was a fabulous night.
I have been addicted to the series and more recently the movie, "Sex and the City", but everytime I watch I get a little sad that while I have many wonderful friends - we are all so busy with our individual lives that we don't have a routine to gather regularly and just do those girl things we need to do.
Like tonight. Tonight we shopped for bras. And I found it was a much better activity to do with a friend than my usual solitary run.
I had told my friend of the lovely bridesmaid gown we selected but then sent her into gales of laughter about how every dress I tried on had the darts in the wrong place. "And then suddenly I realized...trying on a bridesmaid dress at 42, of course the darts are NOT in the wrong place - it's my breasts that are in the wrong place." Ah the joys of gravity. It was obvious that my $21.00 bras are no longer cutting it. I need some serious engineering here.
So my friend took me by the hand and introduced me to the $60.00 bra. Yes - that is 6-0! My thrifty (cheap) self was horrified. And then, she increased my dismay by increasing my cup size. Now I definitely feel like a MATRON of honor. With my D-cups and FOUR hooks in back. But I have to admit - my ladies were definitely looking better when we were done. And? my good friend charged my new goodies (do the math - I bought 5 of them) on her Macy's card so I could get the special discount...I think she was trying to make up for the D-cup revelation.
We laughed and laughed and laughed tonight - about what? I don't know - silly things, embarrassing things, over the shoulder boulder holder things.
What a joy to have a night out with a friend. Thanks my friend.
It was a fabulous night.
I have been addicted to the series and more recently the movie, "Sex and the City", but everytime I watch I get a little sad that while I have many wonderful friends - we are all so busy with our individual lives that we don't have a routine to gather regularly and just do those girl things we need to do.
Like tonight. Tonight we shopped for bras. And I found it was a much better activity to do with a friend than my usual solitary run.
I had told my friend of the lovely bridesmaid gown we selected but then sent her into gales of laughter about how every dress I tried on had the darts in the wrong place. "And then suddenly I realized...trying on a bridesmaid dress at 42, of course the darts are NOT in the wrong place - it's my breasts that are in the wrong place." Ah the joys of gravity. It was obvious that my $21.00 bras are no longer cutting it. I need some serious engineering here.
So my friend took me by the hand and introduced me to the $60.00 bra. Yes - that is 6-0! My thrifty (cheap) self was horrified. And then, she increased my dismay by increasing my cup size. Now I definitely feel like a MATRON of honor. With my D-cups and FOUR hooks in back. But I have to admit - my ladies were definitely looking better when we were done. And? my good friend charged my new goodies (do the math - I bought 5 of them) on her Macy's card so I could get the special discount...I think she was trying to make up for the D-cup revelation.
We laughed and laughed and laughed tonight - about what? I don't know - silly things, embarrassing things, over the shoulder boulder holder things.
What a joy to have a night out with a friend. Thanks my friend.
Women's Colony Got Me Thinking
Over at the Women's Colony, Mrs. G wrote about some stuff that got me thinking.
Recently Hubby was faced with some difficulties at work. If you are a manager of staff, you will be able to relate that you get paid more, because managing people, well....it sucks. Even if they are really good at their jobs and you really like working with them...there's just sucky stuff that you have to deal with. His difficulties came from some issues of what I immediately labeled sexual harrassment. But because the harrassment was of men by women, no one in HR would pay attention to it. And we're talking blatent stuff here folks. Not to mention some women who should most definitely be spending some time in a mental health facility.
As a woman, I was outraged that behavior that we have been fighting against while we ask for equality was now being ignored by women in HR roles. I truly believe that if the genders had been reversed more than one person would have been summarily dismissed and that would be the end of it. I also truly believe that if those men wanted to pursue it, lawsuits would be viable.
I just hope that pursuit of equality is not granting us the right to act like the very worst of the opposite sex. If that is the result of equality, I'll give back my "equal" pay, un-burn my bra, and give up the vote.
Recently Hubby was faced with some difficulties at work. If you are a manager of staff, you will be able to relate that you get paid more, because managing people, well....it sucks. Even if they are really good at their jobs and you really like working with them...there's just sucky stuff that you have to deal with. His difficulties came from some issues of what I immediately labeled sexual harrassment. But because the harrassment was of men by women, no one in HR would pay attention to it. And we're talking blatent stuff here folks. Not to mention some women who should most definitely be spending some time in a mental health facility.
As a woman, I was outraged that behavior that we have been fighting against while we ask for equality was now being ignored by women in HR roles. I truly believe that if the genders had been reversed more than one person would have been summarily dismissed and that would be the end of it. I also truly believe that if those men wanted to pursue it, lawsuits would be viable.
I just hope that pursuit of equality is not granting us the right to act like the very worst of the opposite sex. If that is the result of equality, I'll give back my "equal" pay, un-burn my bra, and give up the vote.
Friday, June 19, 2009
A Disconnect
This morning my CEO - who has been unavailable to work with me on his project all week - called me and said, "Here's all my stuff, I'm hoping that you can get through this today and NOT have to work this weekend."
Sweet.
Clueless, but sweet.
Sweet.
Clueless, but sweet.
15 books
Erin Alberty said to do this...and I did.
Don’t take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you’ve read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes.
Side note: I wish, as an English Major, I could say this is a list of classic literature. I've read my share. Truth be told though - the books that "stick with me" are those that touch my heart more than my mind.
- Where the Red Fern Grows. I totally stole this from Erin's list but I have the beaten up copy on my shelf to prove that I have read and re-read this boy and his dogs tale many many times.
- Pillars of the Earth. I was sadly disappointed by the long awaited sequel to this Ken Follett novel, but the first one is exquisite.
- The Scarlet Pimpernel. I think this book by Baroness Orczy was a favorite because, well, it was written by a Baroness and what teenage girl doesn't fantasize about the regency periods of Europe - even the bloody beheading ones. But truly, I fell in love with Anthony Edwards in the tv miniseries and that made the book a way to recapture his performance. (Sink me! there is quite a list of these stories here!)
- I Know This Much Is True. I think Wally Lamb is genius.
- She's Come Undone. Did I mention Wally Lamb is genius?
- The Long Walk. This was read to me in elementary school and I've always wanted to seek it out and re-read it...the impression is very strong that this was a life-changing experience.
- The Diary of Anne Frank. This book proved to me that mature expression can come from any age given the right (or wrong) circumstances.
- Eric. Oh this book. Box of Kleenex required. The true story of one young man's fight with leukemia. Written by his mother. Oh this book.
- Catch Me If You Can. I read this book when I was in my teens. I never imagined that 20 years later Leo would be playing the part in a movie. Rambunctious, irreverant, page-turning true tales of adventure and misadventure. Loved it.
- Little House on the Prairie series. Loved this as a young girl. Much better than the tv series.
- The Autobiography of King Henry VIII. A novel, not a true autobiography (obviously), but really stunning way to learn about history. Margaret George has done a whole list of 1,000 page tomes on various historical figures - Cleopatra, Mary Queen of Scots, etc. But this one is the best.
- The Outlander Series. Can't help it. Loved the mixture of sci-fi and history with the romantic crazy scotsman Jamie in the lead...fell in love and had to read every book in the series.
- The Dogs of Babel. A favorite. Something about the use of language. I thought it was lyrical and a good story to boot. This is the only book I've ever copied a page out of and kept it so I could read and re-read it over and over again.
- Harry Potter Series. I know. I know. But I cannot get cynical about ANYTHING that gets kids to read like they did when this series was brand new (pre-movies). Plus, it's nice to bury yourself in a world of pure imagination.
- The Prince of Tides. Again - pre-movie reading. While Pat Conroy tells the same tale in a variety of ways he has a poetic quality to his writing and if you're up for tales of the troubled family - he hits it on the head every time.
Like I said, not an impressive list of classics. But nothing I'm truly ashamed of here either. Sorry james joyce - you didn't make the cut - although Ulysses will live in my nightmares forever as the most agonizing required reading of my life.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Make it stop
10-Day Forecast for
Suffern, NY (10901)
Today
Jun 18
Rain
100%
Fri
Jun 19
Cloudy
Rain
20%
Sat
Jun 20
T-Showers
60%
Sun
Jun 21
Showers
40%
Mon
Jun 22
Showers
40%
Tue
Jun 23
Scattered Showers
30%
Wed
Jun 24
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Thu
Jun 25
Isolated T-Storms
30%
Fri
Jun 26
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Suffern, NY (10901)
Today
Jun 18
Rain
100%
Fri
Jun 19
Cloudy
Rain
20%
Sat
Jun 20
T-Showers
60%
Sun
Jun 21
Showers
40%
Mon
Jun 22
Showers
40%
Tue
Jun 23
Scattered Showers
30%
Wed
Jun 24
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Thu
Jun 25
Isolated T-Storms
30%
Fri
Jun 26
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Sat
Jun 27
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Jun 27
Scattered T-Storms
40%
Last Updated Jun 18, 12:18 PM ET
Is our best hope really a "cloudy" or "scattered T-storms" day? Ugh.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Pipes, the Pipes are Calling...
Our sweet little old 1930's cottage has been experiencing some plumbing issues lately. Nothing major, no need to call in the professionals, but just enough trouble to send hubby on repeated trips to the hardware store and to cast many many MANY 4-letter words into the air waves.
Amazingly enough we actually broke off the little doo-hickey (my word of course) that makes the sink drain plug go up and down. So right now, it just goes down and stays down. Obviously not an ideal situation, so I pulled it out and now it sits harmlessly on the side of the sink. A good interim solution right? Well yeah, until the stupid cat starts depositing anything she can think of into the hole - like the top to the toothpaste, a screw, and maybe a bug or two. So now, we need to unplug the pipe as well as replace the broken doo-hickey. And needless to say - finding quality parts to fit our old house pipes is a tricky thing. Hubby has brought home supplies twice only to find he would have to buy additional parts just to make the connections all fit together right.
Then after briefly giving up on that home repair, we realized a constant hissing noise coming from the toilet in our 2nd bathroom. Hubby made jokes about plumbing issues but quickly lost his good mood when he tweaked the toilet doo-hickey (not the same thing as the sink, but another unnamed part) that helps to flow the water into the tank and more importantly helps to STOP the water from OVERFLOWING the tank and it fell off right in his hands! The water started gushing into the tank quickly heading toward the top. Luckily I was close enough to dive under the toilet and twist the shut-off valve while Hubby smartly hit the flusher to empty the bowl and the tank. Hubby gently replaced the part (which still hisses noisily) but at least it functions to maintain the tank water level.
So...the plumbing woes shall continue until Hubby can get the time, and the right parts, to make them all better. I'm thinking September.
Amazingly enough we actually broke off the little doo-hickey (my word of course) that makes the sink drain plug go up and down. So right now, it just goes down and stays down. Obviously not an ideal situation, so I pulled it out and now it sits harmlessly on the side of the sink. A good interim solution right? Well yeah, until the stupid cat starts depositing anything she can think of into the hole - like the top to the toothpaste, a screw, and maybe a bug or two. So now, we need to unplug the pipe as well as replace the broken doo-hickey. And needless to say - finding quality parts to fit our old house pipes is a tricky thing. Hubby has brought home supplies twice only to find he would have to buy additional parts just to make the connections all fit together right.
Then after briefly giving up on that home repair, we realized a constant hissing noise coming from the toilet in our 2nd bathroom. Hubby made jokes about plumbing issues but quickly lost his good mood when he tweaked the toilet doo-hickey (not the same thing as the sink, but another unnamed part) that helps to flow the water into the tank and more importantly helps to STOP the water from OVERFLOWING the tank and it fell off right in his hands! The water started gushing into the tank quickly heading toward the top. Luckily I was close enough to dive under the toilet and twist the shut-off valve while Hubby smartly hit the flusher to empty the bowl and the tank. Hubby gently replaced the part (which still hisses noisily) but at least it functions to maintain the tank water level.
So...the plumbing woes shall continue until Hubby can get the time, and the right parts, to make them all better. I'm thinking September.
Monday, June 15, 2009
M.O.H.
So...once again I'm a bridesmaid...or actually the Matron of Honor (M.O.H.). I don't think I thought at the age of 42 I would ever again have this duty, but thanks to my favorite cousin's upcoming nuptials, here I am.
This weekend was the dress shopping and I have to say, one advantage of age AND a bride's 2nd wedding, is we ladies definitely have a better idea of what we want, and more importantly what we DON'T want. We no longer fool ourselves into believing the dress, no matter how lovely, will really be worn again. So we are going for nice, but low -key, and low-cost. Enter David's Bridal. The Bride knew she wanted brown dresses (or truffle as they call it) so essentially they brought is nearly every dress they had that came in brown. Trying them on was a treat, since in order to hit your size you were often in sunflower yellow, hot pink, baby poop green, or other such unflattering colors.
Amazingly, we all agreed upon one dress. A simple Audrey-Hepburn inspired classic short dress. Because of my height (I tower apprioximately 10 inches above the shortest bridesmaid and a good 8 inches over the bride AND her groom, the dress looked notably shorter on me. So they have sold me on the additional purchases of a peek-a-boo slip and a matching ribbon sash...because..."as the MOH you want to stand out!" Um...not really, but I don't want to look like the dress doesn't fit me right either.
Voila ... the dress...
...actually this one MIGHT be wearable again.
Now...onto the shower, bachelorette, the toast, and other M.O.H. duties. Sigh.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Open Doors
As I walked through my house on Sunday, I noticed the strange phenomenum that Hubby claims is proof of ghosts. Open doors, open closets, open cupboards everywhere.
Go and open the door.
If there's a fog
It will clear.
Go and open the door.
even if there's only
the darkness ticking,
even if there's only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
Here's a little pictorial evidence and a sweet poem I found that ties to it.
The Door
By Miroslav Holub
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there's
A tree, or a wood,
A garden,
Or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there's
A tree, or a wood,
A garden,
Or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog's rummaging.
Maybe you'll see a face,
Or an eye,
Or the picture
Of a picture.
Maybe a dog's rummaging.
Maybe you'll see a face,
Or an eye,
Or the picture
Of a picture.
Go and open the door.
If there's a fog
It will clear.
Go and open the door.
even if there's only
the darkness ticking,
even if there's only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
At least
there'll be
a draft.
there'll be
a draft.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
A Picture's Worth
...the 1,000 words of the last post...enjoy.
A new open view to neighbors - hopefully yieldingsome additional sun and reducing berries in the pool!
Cheerful geraniums in bright red pots.
A scattering of colorful perennials.
A well trimmed and charming cobblestone path.
Some sweet orange flowers brighten hardy potted evergreens.
A bottomless clay pot survives placed inside the garden,
filled with bright begonias.
Brief blooming red hot pokers coming to life.
Antique climbing roses add charm to an ordinary fence.
After blooming, the lilac receives a trim and some training.
Looking more like a home for lily pads,
our pool begins its journey toward blue.
our pool begins its journey toward blue.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Long Time No...
...well, anything but work really. I've been making some tough choices with my time and basically, blogging just didn't make the cut. Plus, as most bloggers know, this is a muscle (like most) that needs exercise to stay functioning.
Catching You Up.
After Bermuda I was fortunate enough to be able to take a week off and enjoy a visit from my Mom. After my father passed away we began a springtime tradition of her joining us for a week around Mother's Day and she helps me, well, do anything and everything. Seems a little unfair that it is supposed to be a time of year to celebrate Mom's and here she is helping me out, but let's face it, I can use the help.
This visit included a lot of shopping for furniture -but no purchases have been made yet - some lunches, some dinners, some gardening, and some just being still. I think we took it a little easier this year - a little slower pace - and it was welcome. Typically I feel that every moment should be filled with some activity - both to entertain and to take advantage of the time away from the office, not to mention the extra set of hands. This year, we still got PLENTY done, but I also felt we had some down time as well. I had offered to take mom in to NYC for a day, but she encouraged me to just take it easy and not worry about working so hard to entertain her. I'm sure we would have (and will in future) enjoy a day there, but again, it was nice to just chill.
Results!
The results of our work are evident in the red pots of geraniums, the hanging baskets of purple flowers on the shepherd's hook, the fresh orange trailing flowers from the evergreen pots on front porch, and the freshly weeded cobblestone walk. She also helped me pick out some perennials to add to my gardens in hopes this will reduce my annual outlay of cash and planting time. (pictures to follow tomorrow)
Since Mom returned home, it's been almost nothing but work work work. I'll write more about that later this month - a special project is at hand that has been taking all of my time and energy. But I've found a little time here and there to be out in the yard. I've never enjoyed gardening, but love the results of a good effort. If someone could just find a way to make weeding a one time effort, I might actually become a garden fanatic.
The Secret to Finding Joy in Gardening.
Last weekend I found that my iPod can actually make gardening tolerable. Tip to the gardening iPod user: secure your iPod in a pocket with button or zipper that won't be banged by gardening tools; run your earbud wires under your shirt so when one falls out, it will only dangle harmlessly from a few inches from your shirt collar; be sure you have several episodes of a favorite radio show (my pick is This American Life with Ira Glass or Radio Lab - very entertaining and thought-provoking, perfect for the relatively mindless work of digging in gardens) or albums, a full battery and go to it. I made it through 4 straight hours of garden work without a break in the momentum, and totally enjoyed it.
So far I've been a mulching mad woman and expect that I will have used about 30-40 bags of mulch before I'm through - note to self: next year bulk delivery. I've also been in the destructive gardening mood. We've removed trees (or should I say, had them removed) and old shrubs which was a necessary activity, although it sure has made the neighbors a much more visible part of our life. We're hoping some of the large tree removals may add a benefit of sun-time for the pool which typically hovers at 73-75 degrees in the summer, while friends a mile away see 80s all summer in a pool twice our size.
Crystal Clear and Cooling.
Speaking of the pool, today we finally pulled off the cover. It is always amazing to me that the green mucky mess can become a clean, clear, crystal blue enticing pool in a matter of days. But after the several hours at this, I fondly recall when we used to pay for someone to do this for us. It is messy, stinky, and back breaking work. I particuarly enjoyed taking the decomposing mess of leaves, twigs and larvae I had skimmed off the pool cover and filling three trash bags by hand. Yum.
Hubby took on the difficult mechanical tasks with the pool, while I took on the drudge work. Only fair since the mechanics of the filter, pipes, and chemicals totally confound me. He then proceeded inside for another mechanical effort - installing ceiling fans in our bedrooms...well one got done at least. I really like it and hope to have less A/C running this year because of it. I know all my HGTV designer hosts would cringe, but this is a case of function over design.
Bored yet?
Yeah, this is another reason I haven't been posting. My life has been absorbed by daily routines and work with little else to show for it, and certainly little to blog about. But - I'll keep trying to pull my writing muscle out of atrophy - at least on non-work days, and find something to say again. Stay tuned for garden photos soon.
Catching You Up.
After Bermuda I was fortunate enough to be able to take a week off and enjoy a visit from my Mom. After my father passed away we began a springtime tradition of her joining us for a week around Mother's Day and she helps me, well, do anything and everything. Seems a little unfair that it is supposed to be a time of year to celebrate Mom's and here she is helping me out, but let's face it, I can use the help.
This visit included a lot of shopping for furniture -but no purchases have been made yet - some lunches, some dinners, some gardening, and some just being still. I think we took it a little easier this year - a little slower pace - and it was welcome. Typically I feel that every moment should be filled with some activity - both to entertain and to take advantage of the time away from the office, not to mention the extra set of hands. This year, we still got PLENTY done, but I also felt we had some down time as well. I had offered to take mom in to NYC for a day, but she encouraged me to just take it easy and not worry about working so hard to entertain her. I'm sure we would have (and will in future) enjoy a day there, but again, it was nice to just chill.
Results!
The results of our work are evident in the red pots of geraniums, the hanging baskets of purple flowers on the shepherd's hook, the fresh orange trailing flowers from the evergreen pots on front porch, and the freshly weeded cobblestone walk. She also helped me pick out some perennials to add to my gardens in hopes this will reduce my annual outlay of cash and planting time. (pictures to follow tomorrow)
Since Mom returned home, it's been almost nothing but work work work. I'll write more about that later this month - a special project is at hand that has been taking all of my time and energy. But I've found a little time here and there to be out in the yard. I've never enjoyed gardening, but love the results of a good effort. If someone could just find a way to make weeding a one time effort, I might actually become a garden fanatic.
The Secret to Finding Joy in Gardening.
Last weekend I found that my iPod can actually make gardening tolerable. Tip to the gardening iPod user: secure your iPod in a pocket with button or zipper that won't be banged by gardening tools; run your earbud wires under your shirt so when one falls out, it will only dangle harmlessly from a few inches from your shirt collar; be sure you have several episodes of a favorite radio show (my pick is This American Life with Ira Glass or Radio Lab - very entertaining and thought-provoking, perfect for the relatively mindless work of digging in gardens) or albums, a full battery and go to it. I made it through 4 straight hours of garden work without a break in the momentum, and totally enjoyed it.
So far I've been a mulching mad woman and expect that I will have used about 30-40 bags of mulch before I'm through - note to self: next year bulk delivery. I've also been in the destructive gardening mood. We've removed trees (or should I say, had them removed) and old shrubs which was a necessary activity, although it sure has made the neighbors a much more visible part of our life. We're hoping some of the large tree removals may add a benefit of sun-time for the pool which typically hovers at 73-75 degrees in the summer, while friends a mile away see 80s all summer in a pool twice our size.
Crystal Clear and Cooling.
Speaking of the pool, today we finally pulled off the cover. It is always amazing to me that the green mucky mess can become a clean, clear, crystal blue enticing pool in a matter of days. But after the several hours at this, I fondly recall when we used to pay for someone to do this for us. It is messy, stinky, and back breaking work. I particuarly enjoyed taking the decomposing mess of leaves, twigs and larvae I had skimmed off the pool cover and filling three trash bags by hand. Yum.
Hubby took on the difficult mechanical tasks with the pool, while I took on the drudge work. Only fair since the mechanics of the filter, pipes, and chemicals totally confound me. He then proceeded inside for another mechanical effort - installing ceiling fans in our bedrooms...well one got done at least. I really like it and hope to have less A/C running this year because of it. I know all my HGTV designer hosts would cringe, but this is a case of function over design.
Bored yet?
Yeah, this is another reason I haven't been posting. My life has been absorbed by daily routines and work with little else to show for it, and certainly little to blog about. But - I'll keep trying to pull my writing muscle out of atrophy - at least on non-work days, and find something to say again. Stay tuned for garden photos soon.
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