On The Funway

Here's hoping for a warm winter

2008-07-01T19:27:31Z

...an exceptionally warm winter.

I received my annual fuel oil budget statement in today's mail.

First, some history:

2004-05 heating season
Oil used: 782.1 gallons
Total price paid: $1,472.30
Average price per gallon: $1.88
Monthly budget payment: $133.00 -- I had a $167 credit at the end of the season

2005-06 heating season
Oil used: 715 gallons
Total price paid: $1,655.65
Average price per gallon: $2.32
Monthly budget payment: $133.00 -- I had a $148 credit at the end of the season

2006-07 heating season
Oil used: 734 gallons
Total price paid: $1,688.75
Average price per gallon: $2.30
Monthly budget payment: $169.00 -- I had a $366 credit at the end of the season

2007-08 heating season
Oil used: 844.2 gallons
Total price paid: $2,872.07
Average price per gallon: $3.40
Monthly budget payment: $134.00 -- +$1,000 at the end of the season -- first year I owed them money

2008-09 monthly budget payment: $342.00
Which tells me they're estimating in the $4.75-5.00/gallon range. Given that prices are currently $4.40 and what they've been doing over the past 1-2 years, I can say I blame them.

This Girl Homeowner hasn't a clue as to where another $200 is going to come from each month. All I know right now is that's $200/month that won't be going to pay down debt, and that's going to suck.

I was mentally ready for my budget to go up $100-135/month. You know, just a little 75-100% increase...

But no, I get a 155% increase. Lucky me. Maybe prices will come down and they'll drop the budget amount mid-season, but that's not the way to be.

Those paying close attention (as I am right now) will notice that my fuel consumption jumped way up last year. I attribute that to three factors:

1) I was home more than usual. No month-long February absence tending to a dying mother. That's why 2005-06 has the lowest consumption. Fewer road trips and long weekends away (with the heat turned downed).

2) Harsh winter. Long. Lots of cold. I haven't looked up the specifics, this is just how I remember it. I could be wrong.

3) I had set-back thermostats installed. Yes, they're supposed to save money rather than increase, but in my case, I think they did the opposite. I used to push the temperature to the lowest setting possible -- basically off -- downstairs, and left it there all winter upstairs. That's what led to the pipes freezing during a cold snap at the end of the 2006-07 heating season, so I was more cautious with my settings this last year.

If I had the money, I'd have new windows installed. I don't know how many gallons of oil that would save each year, but I'm confident it's in the high double digits and perhaps even triple digits as all but a couple of the windows here are single pane glass with no storm windows. Yes, that's insane. What's worse, the frames are such that standard window plastic is a profound annoyance to use and there are some places where it just plain won't seal at all. The thermal-lined Roman shades Susan made for me help cut down the drafts in my office, and I spent most of last winter bundled up in two layers of sweaters, but that clearly wasn't enough.

I'll have to figure out something. I'll simply have to.

I feel like I'm in an episode of Tom Corbett, Space Cadet.

And I feel like the rest of the country, and much of the world, is here with me.

Wind. Big Wind.

2008-06-29T20:10:05Z

It's just starting to rain here at Toad Woods. A big wind came through, starting about 10 minutes ago, quickly growing louder, more intense, and louder still.

A few rain drops, and now a heavy downpour. Yep, there's the thunder. Rumble. Rumble.

My quick check while the wind was growing stronger turned up the weather advisory and weather alarm in effect. "Thunderstorms, some severe." Yep, I'd say they got that right.

It's all very fast. The initial heavy downpour that started two short paragraphs ago has already lightened to a steady soaking.

Too bad the squash and pumpkin seeds are still in their packets, sitting on the dentist's cabinet. They would have liked this rain if they'd been in the ground for a month now as they should have been.

RIP: Jack Speer

2008-06-28T22:07:52Z

The news is spreading 'round: Jack Speer died earlier today. On the Virtual Corflu, I heard he was doing poorly and had been diagnosed as terminal; I'm glad he and Ruth were able to attend Corflu Silver and help it shine.

Joe Siclari and Edie Stern told me my very favorite Jack Speer story just few minutes after it happened. The last day of Intersection (the 1995 Worldcon in Glasgow), they had the joy of seeing Jack jumping up and down in the Bouncy Castle that was set up in the exhibit hall. I so wish I'd seen that for myself! We ran 3 photos of Jumpin' Jack next to the GoH tribute Joe and Edie wrote for the Noreascon 4 souvenir book, so I can at least look at those in delight and appreciation.

In 1996, Jack was typically one of the last visitors to stop by the L.A. Con III fan lounge late at night. And he stayed up later still -- I remember him standing, listening to the filkers in the lobby as I was making my way back to my room sometime around 3 am after both closing and cleaning up in the fan lounge one night.

More recently, I had the pleasure Jack and Ruth's company during the drive to the Dead Dog dinner at County Line BBQ at the end of last year's Corflu Quire in Austin. That was the last time I saw him, and I'm glad it included some real conversation.

Sigh.

Sympathy to Ruth and the rest of the family, including his fannish one.

Geri

Mine!

2008-06-28T19:34:40Z

Skater Doll is mine! Yes, it's a Twinzy Toy.


Skater Doll, photo from William H. Bunch auction catalog This Twinzy Toy was part of the inventory from the Yellow Brick Road Doll and Toy Museum sold at auction during the summer of 2008 after museum owners Dorothy and Steve Tancraitor retired. It is the second Twinzy Toy I've found thanks to the internet and the first Twinzy pull toy in my small collection.

You may be wondering just what heck a Twinzy Toy is. Well, unless you've been to my basement Toy Room or remember my past mentions of my great-aunts and the Twinzy Toy Company they ran in a corner of their father's tag factory in Battle Creek, Michigan, in which case your memory has already told you why I'm so delighted with this addition to my collection.

Blanche and Bernice Squier -- Auntie Blanche and Auntie Bun -- started the Twinzy Toy Company in 1918. Yes, they were identical twins. They started making dolls and selling them to friends just before they went to college. They completed their freshman year, then decided that there was enough demand for their dolls that they would start selling them commercially instead of returning to school. That was the end of their college education, and the beginning of business that ran for roughly 35 years. They had a trade show booth at the New York Toy Fair for years, and Twinzy Toys were sold in department and toy stores nationwide. Marshall Field's was one of their many customers.

In the last 45 years, I've found mention of Twinzy Toys in two books on antique toys. One just had the name in a list of toy makers, the other showed one of their ads from a trade publication. Until today, I hadn't seen a Twinzy Toy for sale in any shop or auction since the bank auction at 149/151 Fremont Street in the early 1960s. I lucked into the opportunity to buy Pandora, a Twinzy Toy cat, last summer when a person looking for information on Twinzy Toys found a past LJ post of mine via Google, so, yes, there are at least a few out there. Given the quantities sold, I'm surprised I haven't run across more.

Then again, I haven't been searching that hard. I've been keeping my eyes open in antiques shops and more. I visit toy museums as I stumbled across them, and found myself hoping that I'd see one among the thousands of antique toys at The Moose Tracks Museum at Lark Toys in Kellogg, Minnesota when Jeff and I went there for a Sunday afternoon adventure back in 1999. Nope, no Twinzy Toys, but I was glad to find and buy the replica Cape Canaveral Missle Base. Shooting those rockets off is fun!

Internet searches over the years have pointed to one of my LJ posts and nothing else...until this week.

Even with that rarity, I wasn't going to bid on Skater Doll. I was delighted to see the picture, and was going to watch the auction to see what it went for, but paying down existing debt will be at the top of my discretionary income priority list for years to come, and even that comes after paying current bills before they have a chance to move onto the mountain of long-term debt that comes with another mountain of interest charges. Yes, I'll treat myself with something fun from time to time, but my overall position is one of selling stuff, not buying more.

What happened? As with so many other good things made possible, I have a Ben in my life, and that is a very good thing, indeed. We worked out a bidding strategy; if it proved to be the winning one, Skater Doll would be my birthday present.

And so it is. Skater Doll is mine!

The adventure even has its own lagniappe. I called minnehaha K. for eBay bidding advice. The situation was complicated by this being a live auction, and I'm an eBay novice to boot. It turns out that her friend, the Queen of PEZland, lives near Chadds Ford, PA, where the auction was being held. K. and Amy have been antiquing there!

The auction house doesn't do their own shipping. If the timing works out, Amy will pick up Skater Doll from them and ship it my way. If not, I'll use the commercial shipper used by many other auction house customers. I hope Skater Doll visits Amy's PEZ collection on its way to me, but it's a win just to be back in touch with her.

The auction notice sent me searching. Much to my surprise, I found Laura Adams recent post about visiting Quaker Park in the Northside Irregular. The park includes the land where the tag and toy factory stood, and her report includes a photo of a Twinzy Toy Historical Marker I didn't know was there! Like most historical markers, it contains an error or two. "They lie like hell" was how my father put it when I read the text to him over the phone. But this post is already long, so I'll leave the details of that for another time.

Just 64 items to go...

2008-06-28T17:02:43Z

...make that 63. The auctioneer is moving things quickly. That's a good thing, considering the 500 lots on the block today.

And now, 62. I'm going to stop reading LJ and keep a closer eye on the auction site.

61.

Remind me...

2008-06-28T16:22:22Z

...to never, ever go to a toy auction in person. It's hard enough to resist pushing the "bid now" button on my computer screen while watching and waiting for the single item I'm there for to come up to bid.

I do love living in the future, though -- living in the future and having friends and loved ones who turn bad ideas into good ones.

I'll explain more in another 283 items. In the meanwhile, what were your favorite childhood toys? I never had a Barbie doll, not a single one, and I don't remember ever wanting one. But Pepper? Pepper was a great doll. I so envied her hair -- you could curl it up over your finger, or under around it -- every curl always held in place the way they never, ever did with my own hair. There are several genuine Pepper dolls out there. Ideal apparently kept changing her hair -- blonde, brunette, redhead, short, then shoulder-length. All in the pursuit of more sales, no doubt.

Pepper was Tammy's little sister, but I neither my older sister or I had a Tammy doll and I was never interested in Tammy. One doll was enough. You got one doll, then expanded out with clothes and accessories for her. That was the norm for the late 1950s and early '60s neighborhood that I grew up in.

Sue's doll was "Jill" doll, of Jan, Jill, and Jeff fame. I mostly remember the Jill and Jan wardrobe shown in the top image here. (Jan's name was on the other door.)

This palomino horse was quite likely the toy I played with the most. I had it for years and never tired of putting the bridle on, taking it off, attaching the stirrups, adjusting the cinch strap, and more. Whatever vinyl they used for all those little bits certainly had endurance. One of the connection points on the bridle eventually broke, but not until years after I'd stopped playing with it regularly.

Edited to add: My palomino couldn't have been Dallas, since he wasn't introduced until 15+ years after I played with mine. And further reflection recalls that my horse's main and tail were hard plastic, not hair. But the one-leg-raised pose is the same, and all the fiddly bits, too. I suspect a reworking of an earlier toy horse and accessories lead to the creation of Dallas. Darned if I can remember my horse's brand name, certain though I am that it had one.

What were your faves?

Quick apology, and other notes du jour

2008-06-27T18:33:46Z

Oops -- that post about this weekend's Reno in 2011 activities was supposed to go on the Reno in 2011 community rather than here. My apologies to all who end up seeing it twice as a result.

In other news, the septic tank turned out to have only three covers rather than six -- there's one large center cover and two smaller covers at each edge. Work is underway to have risers installed on the two covers we can get to without cutting five feet into the concrete apron that's most likely been in place ever since the house was built. I could spend more money and have a third riser installed as well. That would be the safest approach, providing easy access to every point that the system might clog, but it's also the most expensive. And a snake out from the pipe in the basement or underneath the garage is likely to deal with that problem...if it ever arises.

So I'll take my chances, keep the cost as low as possible now, and do what most needs doing, which is pumping the tank out and making sure we have access to pump it out regularly in the future.

In other, other news, it's been a roller-coaster of a week -- lots of hard news, lots of fun and good news, all coming one after the other, back and forth and back again, loop de loop all week long. I'm a bit dizzy and exhilarated from the ride, and hope the weekend brings a few quiet joys my way. I have rather a lot that needs working on, as usual. But it's all rather fun stuff, so that's a win. In addition to the PROmote work, I'll also be turning more of my design attention to the Hugo program booklet for this year, the one given out at the ceremony that lists the nominees and such. Reminder to all that the Hugo Voting Deadline is just 10 days away -- midnight PDT, Monday, July 7th. For details, see the Denvention 3 Hugo page. Vote soon, rather than at the last moment, to minimize the risk of delivery failure.

Three conventions, no waiting

2008-06-27T06:55:27Z


Coming Soon to a Convention Near You Rennie, the official Reno in 2011 carpetbag created by Brad Foster made his/her/its debut on Memorial Day weekend as TR Renner and Mark Herrup launched the first of many (many!) Reno in 2011 bid parties.

Are you heading to ConRunner, Midwestcon, or ApolloCon this weekend? Reno in 2011 agents will be in England, Ohio, and Texas, listening, talking, and partying with fans. They'll gladly take your money, too. :-)

Look for our UK Agent, Steve Cooper, at ConRunner in Wolverhampton. It's the first non-US convention we'll be at, but it's far from the last! The vote is in Montréal, after all....

On Saturday night, Jim Mann, Laurie Mann, and Ben Yalow are hosting a Reno party at Midwestcon in Cincinnati. Look for flyers announcing the room number, or just ask -- last year, three different people I didn't know each told me where the Montréal and Australia parties were. Nice!

ApolloCon Fan GoH Anne KG Murphy is representing Reno in Houston-- we'll likely post a special report about our activities there sometime on Saturday. Maybe even with a picture or three....

If you're like me and spending the weekend at home, wishing you were at any or all of the above, please take a minute and swing by the Reno in 2011 website for a quick convention fix. We've updated it with links to pictures and mini-reports from Balticon, BayCon, ConQuesT, Marcon, WisCon, and Fourth Street Fantasy Convention. There are a few other new things, too -- where we'll be next, an updated supporter list, agents' names, and such. As always, we'll gladly take your money on the website, too.

Seriously -- many, many thanks for the active, positive support we've received this past month, the first month of the bid. The Reno in 2011 Worldcon bid already has over 160 Supporters, Friends, and Really Close Friends. Your contributions make the parties and other fun surprises possible. I'm looking forward to helping us all have a mountainous good time in Denver.

See you on the Funway!

Six. Apparently the answer is six.

2008-06-26T14:09:01Z

Here at Toad Woods, I have propane gas, a septic tank, and a well. My childhood home had a cesspool until the city finally connected all of the houses on the street to the sewer system long after I moved away. Before moving here, I'd been on city sewer systems all of my adult life.

There was something about a repair done 10 years before my purchase that meant it failed the pre-sale Title V inspection and major work was done the month before I bought the Zeppelin Hangar and moved in. Everything was cleaned out in that process, and I understood that routine maintenance called for pumping out the tank every year or two.

I live by myself and am gone a fair bit of the time. A year into things, Plow Guy, who is also Septic System Repair Guy, said he was trying to expand into the Septic Cleaning business, but not quite there yet. I was okay with that -- every two years seemed sufficient.

Which brings us to 2006. I called Plow Guy and talked with his wife. Yes, they had someone who could pump out tanks on Fridays. They scheduled me for the next one, in late April.

Only something happened, and he couldn't come. Okay, whenever.

About that same time, I had the driveway paved. I looked at the map of the septic system and very carefully marked off the area out front where the D-box was so they wouldn't pave over it. I (mis)understood that the D-box was the important connection point for cleaning.

Um, nope. There's a cover in the top of the tank that they open up and pump it out from there.

Then there came the not-so-small matter of finding the tank. When Plow Guy's various employees showed up later that summer to clean out the tank, I pulled out the map, showed them where I thought the D-box was, and learned that no, we needed to find the tank itself. Over the course of a month and several visits, they measured, and proceeded to sink rods and dig small holes all over out front. They hit rock after rock after rock, but no tank. Plow Guy himself came out and was on the verge of leaving after another unsuccessful series of measurements and holes when I looked at the drawing and asked, "why are we measuring from these points? Could this mean we're supposed to measure from those?"

Yep. Sure enough, we'd all been misreading the map, even the folks who drew it.

And, yes, just as you've suspected ever since I mentioned having the driveway paved, the tank was under the pavement. Uh-oh.

Plow Guy said he had a saw and could cut the pavement. Okay. That sucked, but we had to have access to the tank to pump it out. No choice there.

By this time, we were into late summer/early fall. The rest of the fall went swiftly by without additional progress on the problem.

Then 2007 went by. Eep. I poured septic system treatment stuff down the toilet and crossed my fingers.

At the end of the 2007-08 plowing season, I sent a note about the septic system access issue along with my last plowing check. I tried calling a couple of times, finally reaching Plow Guy's wife yesterday afternoon. Plow Guy called me back last night and said he'd be here this morning.

Excellent. I've had no problems yet, but have been fearing that I was that fabled "one flush away" from major problems for some months now.

He came with much reassuring news this morning. Once we get access to the tank, he can have it pumped out, install risers so we never have to dig again, put the plates over them, and even repair the pavement. He's a versatile guy, even if he does sometimes let projects slide for a year or two. And he's really reliable on the plowing, and charges fairly, etc. etc.

I'd been figuring that I'd have to have Paving Guy do the repairs at the very least, and that I might well have to find my own tank-pumping service since it was unclear whether that part of Plow Guy's business expansion had worked out or not. Scheduling home maintenance services is tricky in the best of circumstances. I've never been in the best of circumstances.

The further news this morning is that we need two holes in the pavement rather than one. There's the input cover where a "T" is and the output cover, too. Some tanks are divided into two sections and need to have both pumped. Stuff sometimes gets stuck at the connecting points; we need to be able to get to them. Okay.

There's now one cleanly-cut hole in my driveway. Sure enough, there's the septic tank about 18 inches underneath it. There's even a cover, an access point to the tank, in the part that's now uncovered.

Only it's a "small cover," not one of the main ones.

I asked the obvious question: "How many covers does a septic tank have?"

The guy who'd just spent the previous hour cutting the pavement and digging the hole thought for a moment, then described the six covers in the top of the tank. Newer tanks apparently only have two big ones, but my tank? My tank has four little ones and two big ones.

I feel so special.

First things first

2008-06-25T23:17:39Z

Note to self: when reading something that sets off my hair-trigger suicide alert radar at screaming "red alert" levels, stop and check for context in minimal impact ways before escalating to more direct reality checks. Especially when nothing that friend has ever posted or said before set off the radar or otherwise suggested they might be at increased risk.

More about the minimal impacts, triggers, and my reactions behind the cut. I name no names, though some will be obvious to those who have one or more chunks of context.

For example, checking for context when reading my LiveJournal friends list means clicking through to the person's journal to see if there are other posts I might have missed, posts that would tell me that the friends-locked, comment-disabled quote that reads like a suicide note most certainly isn't one. If I'd done that immediately I would have seen yesterday's post, the one I missed, the one that said they were going to have to say a really hard goodbye today. Death, yes. Not their death, not suicide, but death, hard death.

I should have checked their journal before interrupting one friend's phone conversation with her husband to get said friend's phone number. And certainly before calling the friend whose post has that WTF adrenaline rush plunging me back into the horrors of losing not just one but two loved ones to suicide.

Because the triggers are always going to be there. Some obscure, some blatant. Some are just plain thoughtless or appallingly stupid and irresponsible, like the person on a mailing list last week who said he wasn't entirely tongue-in-cheek when he posted that shooting yourself was the appropriate response to messing up a convention so bad that it had to be canceled at-con (or after people had started traveling to it).

Some triggers are rock-solid real, others are clearly spoken and posted in response to non-suicidal life crises. Clearly spoken and posted if the listeners and readers have the context, that is.

Further note to self: while checking for context in a lower impact way would have been useful, picking up the phone and calling was certainly better than pursuing any of the higher-impact responses on the options list. Yes, slowing down a bit after getting the context clue along with the necessary phone number would have been good, too, but turning off or tamping down adrenaline-fueled reactions isn't a fast process.

For the record and my memory, this all happened after a full nine hours of sleep. I don't think sleep deprivation was a significant factor as it so often is. I think this one was straight hair-trigger suicide risk reaction syndrome.

It sure released it a lot of adrenaline.

Bath now, I think. Lush bath. Then on to the work at hand. The work, and the amusements, too. Life's full of both. That's a darned good thing, especially given the hard times and tragedies it has such a nasty habit of bringing our way.

Milo the Moon Dog

2008-06-12T03:08:18Z

Tonight is Milo's last for this stay at Toad Woods; tomorrow he heads home. We took an extra long walk at Conant Brook Dam, though not quite deliberately. I meant to get back to Toad Woods before dark, back in time to mow the ultra shaggy part of the lawn I didn't get to 10 days ago. But a new path beckoned, and it said it was a connector path, so we followed along. And along, and along. Yes, it connected up with the path I thought it did, but only after looping up way farther than I expected it to, then dipping back down to rejoin the main path much farther along than I would have walked even it. Oops.

Good exercise, though. And it was blessedly cooler out, so the walk was a pleasant one even if my headband was more than a tad damp by the end of our exertions.

Our final walk back across the top of the dam was surprisingly lively. Two women were there with toddlers, young toddlers. Milo really, really, really, really wanted to check them out. Then the daily biker passed by, the third time our paths crossed tonight. Most days, we've seen him once and Milo has been reasonably well behaved. Tonight he wanted nothing more than to play chase the bike.

Last night's walk back was interesting in a completely different way. Milo and I were the only creatures in sight, so I followed my recently-developed habit of dropping the leash and letting him walk on his own, dragging it behind. We didn't do that down amongst the trees -- Milo was much too prone to taking off into the woods in a mad frenzy after a squirrel and there was no way he would respond to "Milo, Come!" under those conditions. Not for me, not for his owners, not for anyone. But up on the top of the dam, with nothing but gravel and rocks for hundreds of feet, the dropped leash routine worked fine. We did it on the way out, and again on the way back, for 4 or 5 visits, once we were both used to the place, and used to each other.

Last night we walked later than usual, giving every last moment possible for things to cool down to something tolerable. When we walked back up to the top of the dam, Milo looked up and froze, startled by what he saw in the sky, the clear sky.

The only thing there was the moon at half phase. The very only thing. Milo kept staring at it, then ran forward a bit, and stopped and stared again. He was fascinated. He started trotting, then running, trying to get closer to it. Not with the frenzy of a squirrel chase, just with deliberation, with intent. A casual run, as it were.

About halfway across the 1,050-foot dam, I called him back. He stopped, jumped back a few feet toward me, and stopped again, staring at the moon. We repeated this a dozen or more times, however many it took for him to come all the way to me. Each time it was a token "yes, I'm coming toward you, just like you told me to" followed by a stop. He wanted to be nearer to the moon, not moving away from it.

Even though there were no other creatures on the top of the dam, I held his leash for the rest of the walk across it. If I hadn't, Milo could have easily spent the night running for the moon.

And who could blame him?

Today at Conant Brook Dam

2008-06-08T23:59:02Z

The beaver was swimming too far away to hear it breathing, but I did have the pleasure of watching a Great Blue Heron standing mostly still for several minutes, then take flight across the pond where the beaver dam is and land in another grassy clump at the far side of the wetlands. Nice.

I was particularly pleased that neither I or Milo seem to have startled it or otherwise prompted its flight. Something over there caught its attention and it appeared to be going over for a closer look. Dinner, perhaps.

Change Happens, a follow-up

2008-06-07T14:58:03Z

Yes, I'm okay. Pretty much so, anyway.

I was and am feeling hammered by the the fact that change happens. The contrast last night between the cool fog and knowing what the morrow would bring reminded me that said change happening is all around me, always. Then there's the gap between change happening and specific changes I would welcome not happening. Some of those changes are at least hypothetically within my control -- others, not so much.

There's a clear "grant me the serenity" component to my current needs as well as the importance of seeing and embracing the "joy of the day." Yes, it's hot outside. Today's enjoyment of that involves a walk up to the farmer's market right now, before it gets brutally hot.

Thanks for the care and concern.

Change Happens

2008-06-07T04:27:58Z

Change happens.

Sometimes it's as swift as tonight's cool, soft fog burned away so soon by tomorrow's brutal heat wave.

Sometimes it's a slow erosion, the long weekends lovers once regularly carved out of time scarce and precious growing ever shorter, ever more apart.

Sometimes we see change coming and embrace it; sometimes we see it coming and battle against its every shadow, every step along the way. Sometimes it seemingly comes out of nowhere and knocks us flat. Sometimes it swoops in, bringing us wings or a magic carpet to fly on.

Sometimes it brings better, sometimes it brings worse. Usually, like the rest of life, it's a mix. We need the cool mist of the night's fog, we need the heat of the day. And, yes, we need the heat of the night, too.

At the core, forever true, change happens. We make it, we allow it, we cope with it, we are helpless against it...these are our choices. These are our choices, and more.

Change happens. That is not a choice; that is reality.

Change happens. The miracle is how much we each remain who we are all throughout the process, all throughout our lives. For better, for worse.

Change happens.

Hearing the beaver breathe

2008-06-06T01:06:15Z

Life has been more stressful than I'm comfortable with these last few weeks. There's no one big reason, just too much, too much on too many of the little reasons. At least, that's how it feels on the inside. Up on the surface, all seems to be going in a relatively straightforward manner. My blessings are many, I'm getting a fair bit done, and if there's always way more to do than time and energy to do it in, well, that's one of the signs of an interesting, full life, isn't it?

A week ago, debgeisler took me out to Crane Beach in Ipswich. As she wrote, it's "one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen in the continental U.S. We walked and sat and soaked up some sun and some wonderful breezes. And we just *were.*"

It was lovely, and utterly relaxing.

Then we went back to Middleton where Deb and benveniste made amazingly nummy barbecued shrimp for dinner. New Orleans style barbecued shrimp, having "nothing to do with a barbecue pit or barbecuing," as this recipe site explains. "Why is it called 'barbecued' shrimp? Beats the hell out of me. If you're really curious, ask someone at Pascal's Manale Restaurant on Napoleon Avenue in New Orleans; it's where the dish was created. Me, I don't care. This dish is so good you can call it whatever you want."

We had kevin_standlee to thank for the shrimp. Earlier that day, he wrote about shrimp pan roast, served by John's Oyster Bar at the Nugget in Reno. I found and read that recipe to Deb, and that got her to thinking about barbecued shrimp.

My original plan had been to head home after wherever our wanderings took us that day, but after she took the shrimp out of the freezer, I asked if I could stay for dinner, and remain there for a third night, too. I spent a couple of hours working on various PROmote projects at hand, but even with that, the overall result was a welcome easing of stress levels.

Deb even sent the leftover shrimp home with me. I have the best friends. The very best friends. I am well aware of my own generous streak, but I tell you, I wouldn't have offered up those leftovers. Yum, yum, yum. Thanks, Deb & Mike! And thanks, Kevin, for the fortuitous timing of your comment. I hope to try shrimp pan roast in your company someday. I'll be remembering a certain afternoon at the beach and those barbecued shrimp when we do....

The title of this post came from this week's stress reliever. The Improbable Milo is staying with me for ten days while Marc and Robin are in the UK. Now, having a good dog around at all is a stress reliever, and Milo is a good dog. He's also a high-energy dog, so walks are not just a good idea, I'd call them necessary. For the last couple of days, we've walked along Mount Hitchcock and McBride Roads -- they have far less traffic than even the lightly-traveled Monson Road, and Milo is not a dog who intuitively understands that roads have cars on them, or that cars could hurt him. He's picking up the command "side" quickly -- I say "Milo, side!" and move my arm horizontally toward the side of the road I want him to go to now and he'll go bounding over, oh, about 70% of the time after two days of walking. I introduced the command when he stayed here for an overnight at the end of April. His brain may be tiny and prone to melting, but he seemed to have remembered the basics of the "side" command and we're building on that a fair bit more each day.

Except for today. Today, I took Milo for a completely stress-free walk at Conant Brook Dam. Wide, open pathways and no cars made for a pleasant stroll. Milo liked exploring new territory; I liked watching him levitate when excited by the nearby presence of squirrels and chipmunks. He goes straight up, from all four legs simultaneously. Hop! Hop!

We walked along the paths I discovered when I first visited the dam on a frigid, windy day in March, and went exploring to the edge of a small cliff on another one. Near the edge of the lake, I peered through shrubs and trees to a large beaver dam. Another fifty feet further up the path, I had a clear view of the lake, and of a large beaver serenely swimming along.

Serenely until it noticed Milo, that is. An abrupt dive and large tail slap caused Milo to levitate once more. Levitate and back off, uncertain of the nature of the risk at hand. I stood quietly, watching as the beaver resurfaced and resumed swimming along. Whuff. Whuff. I could hear the beaver breathing even over the competing bird calls all around me. Whuff.

It was almost the shadow of a snore, surprisingly audible from 15-20 feet away. I've seen beavers on and off my entire life; this is the first time I remember hearing one breathe.

I saw two more dive'n'slaps, one large, the other half-hearted. The large one splashed water all the way to the shore. Very impressive. Milo levitated again, but quickly returned to sniffing the ground around him. He somehow knew he wasn't going after the beaver, and just wasn't that concerned by or interested in its presence apart from the startling noise of those tail slaps.

An elderly couple came along and watched the beaver for awhile with me, telling of the babies they saw there last year, and of other paths and entrances into the area. They walk there almost every day, they said. Years ago, families used to bring picnics, but they don't, anymore. I expect it would take at least some tables and trash cans to change that -- the dam and surrounding acres have none, and no other amenities, either. Except for the wide trails and beautiful surroundings. They're plenty enough for me. I rather expect Milo and I will head back over to the dam several more times while he's here.

Crane Beach. Conant Brook Dam. Sand, sun, ocean, birds...rocks, trees, birds, and the breath of a beaver.

Oh, yes, life is good.

Digression while paying bills

2008-05-27T02:21:43Z

Every month, I pay two phone bills. One is to Verizon, for my home service. The other is to Sprint, for my mobile service. And every month, these two bills leave me contemplating the psychology of form design both good and bad.

Both bills have boxes to fill in the amount paid. The Verizon bill has exactly the number of boxes needed. The bill is a 2-digit number followed by a decimal point and two more digits (for the cents). Surely some Verizon customers must have phone bills that at least occasionally exceed $99.99 -- my AT&T bill used to be over $100 frequently before I converted to an "all you can eat" long distance plan years ago in Minnesota. If I were making international calls, even my current bill could easily jump up.

I finally just pulled out my Agfa lupe magnifier and took a close look. Yep; it's a fuzzy-edged rule. Those boxes are custom printed the same was as all the other unique information on the bill. The program is no doubt sophisticated enough to print another box if the payment amount is $100.00-999.99. Good programming.

Which brings us to the Sprint bill. The boxes for the "Amount Enclosed" area are printed with every bill, just like on the Verizon bill, but here there are seven digits between the dollar sign and the decimal point, complete with commas separating the hundreds, thousands, and millions! Every single month, filling in my amount enclosed, I find myself recoiling in horror at the idea that any one's Sprint bill could be thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, or one to nine million dollars. I never think "oh, see how small my bill is." All those extra boxes leave me fearing the day when I might suddenly have a bill that large. Psychologically, it's horrible form design -- for the effect on this customer, anyway.

Okay, back to the bills at hand....

More than a new userpic...

2008-05-24T03:36:36Z

Yes, it's true. For the first time, I'm a member of a bid committee for a real Worldcon: Reno in 2011.

We launched the bid tonight with announcements near and far, and a presence at five conventions: Balticon, BayCon, ConQuesT, Marcon, and WisCon. I've posted a bit of 4-part harmony about that on our brand new LiveJournal community.

Here's the bid announcement on ConCentral. It's popping up here and there around LiveJournal and elsewhere in the ether, too. Fun!

My own financial situation means I'm home this weekend rather than helping with any of our launch parties in person. It's times like this that I appreciate my friends all the more. Marcon Toastmaster skzb announced the bid during Opening Ceremonies there. netmouse is running a bid table for us there, and lsanderson has been keeping me entertained all week with his posts, email messages, and phone calls about preparations for the bid party he's hosting at WisCon tomorrow night. In the meanwhile, friends such as elaine_brennan, debgeisler, and other are keeping me updated with reports about the bid launch. I love living in the future. I love helping make stuff like this happen in real time.

I hope you'll take a look at our website and consider supporting Reno in 2011 at whatever level fits your budget and sensibilities. You can also download our bid flyer as a pdf in high-res print form or a low-res version for on-screen viewing only.

1,665 miles later

2008-05-22T03:14:19Z

Home.

Zeppelin Hangar still standing and everything. That's always nice.

I'm impossibly behind on LiveJournal after a week of limited net connectivity and an increasing time deficit.

Good trip, if somewhat more stressful than I would have preferred. (See previous comment about pesky time deficits.)

Film at 11, I hope. In the meanwhile, it's good to be back.

Travel stress

2008-05-17T17:33:54Z

So, I managed to lose a piece of the power cord for my CPAP equipment. I called the hotel I stayed in Thursday night -- I used it there, and it wasn't in my suitcase when I unpacked it at my dad's last night. The guy even went and checked the room -- no sign of it there.

They have my contact info and will both call and mail the cord if they find it. Meanwhile, King Home Medical Equipment came through as the heros of the revolution. I called this morning to see if they were open today; the phone was answered by their 24-hour emergency service. I described the problem and they said they'd have someone call me. Okay. I figured I'd go to the other place whose store was open until 1 and hope to luck out there, figuring that the emergency service would take until after I was gone to get the cord to me and that it would cost a fortune. But first, my dad was making breakfast for me.

The Respiratory Tech for King Home Medical called me back before Dad and I were out the door. He was sure he had a cord, and could meet me at the store in 40 minutes. The whole thing would cost me $25.

So good. So very, very good.

I'm looking forward to happy sleep tonight. Deep, real, happy sleep.

Yay, King Home Medical Equipment! Yay for your great Respiratory Guy!

Remembering Birthdays: Louise Katheryne Sullivan

2008-05-12T22:40:32Z

May 12th was Louise Katheryne Sullivan's birthday. If I'm remembering the year correctly, she would have turned 49 today if all of the considerable efforts to treat her depression had yielded better results than they did. I'm pretty sure she was a '59 baby....

What I know for certain is that she was a wonderful human being and I was blessed to share friendship and family ties with her for what turned out to be far too short a number of years. Thanks to Louise, getting lost while driving rarely upsets me. Thanks to Louise, I marvel at the power of thunderstorms. Thanks to Louise, I know and am friends with Sandy Williams, who has also served as my attorney since I moved to Massachusetts.

Thanks to Louise, I knew...Louise. And that was treasure enough. The 27 years since she died have been a long strange trip, indeed. Strange and wondrous. I have carried her in memory and in my heart every step of the way and trust I will continue to do so through everything still ahead.

90,000 mile tune-up, with opera

2008-05-12T16:10:36Z

I brought my car in for it's 90K service today and am now happily working and surfing from the leather sofas in the waiting room. One other woman is here with her laptop; the other customers waiting are older men who are reading.

In walked an elderly man. He looked the five of us over and proclaimed his pleasure at being in the presence of two lovely, young women. Then he burst into song.

Really. It was a tad startling. It was also lovely. He sang part of "The Anvil Chorus" from Verdi's Il Trovatore. His voice filled the showroom and he clearly enjoyed hamming it up, singing first to the other woman, then to me, back and forth, for what was only a few minutes but of course seemed longer when it was happening.

The man sings with the Assabet Valley Mastersingers in Northborough. He claimed to be the lowest of them, telling me they're all better singers than he is. Then again, he also claimed that he's shy. Right. And he told me the composer was Joe Green, and ever so smoothly named Guiseppe Verdi when he could tell from my face that I wasn't quite keeping up with him. Hey, I knew it was Italian and opera. And familiar. calimac and kip_w would have recognized it in an instant, as would several other friends reading this. Me? I enjoyed listening to the beauty of his voice and the sheer unexpected nature of it all.

If Gypsies had stepped from behind the Toyota Highlander in the showroom and joined in, I would have known I was experiencing my first Improv Everywhere gig. This was better. This was a guy who simply enjoyed bursting into song, had the talent to carry it off, and the sense to know when to stop.

Color me charmed.

Vedi! Le fosche notturne spoglie
De' cieli sveste l'immensa volta;
Sembra una vedova che alfin si toglie
I bruni panni ond'era involta.

One lawn mowed, zero ankles injured

2008-05-12T00:26:28Z

Last summer, I looked out my office window and saw a fat'n'sassy groundhog surveying the land near the magnolia tree here at Toad Woods. I only saw him once, and never noticed anything in the way of serious issues while mowing the lawn.

Fast forward to this spring. Uh-oh. Early explorations of the yard suggest the groundhogs have claimed the entire south hillside as their domain. There are a couple of big holes in the lawn on the north side of the house, too. At this rate, I'm surprised the furry creatures haven't established an express tunnel through the basement toy room. At least, I hope they haven't....

I quickly lost count. There are at least a dozen holes out there; it seemed like more. Winter and summer burrows, more than one family, the entire groundhog population of the eastern seaboard? I don't know. The coyotes don't seem to be keeping up with them, that's all I can say.

I'm inclined to leave them be and simply continue watching my step when I mow. My usual rule of thumb is that if it's outdoors and not an immediate threat to my safety, I do my best to adjust to and accommodate it. Indoors is my territory. I'll poison mice, shrews, and bugs inside the house with impunity. If it's larger, I'll do my best to relocate it outdoors rather than kill it, but the bottom line is that it's gotta go.

Note to any of the surviving clumps of bluets who may have cracked my password and be surfing LJ on the Toad Woods Wireless: If you look about, you may noticed that the spinning blade of death that passed you by this afternoon took out pretty much every last one of your bluet cousins who had decided that single and free was the better way to be. Learn! Learn and you will continue to grow! Stay in your lovely clumps, close in and easy to mow around. Don't hide beneath the leaves, burst forth in blossom!

I mowed down hundreds, no, thousands of bluets, dandelions, tiny anemones, and violets.The edge of the mower clipped just enough mint that I slowed down to savor taking deep breathes before pushing on to another part of the lawn.

The winter's bumper crop of sticks has been tossed into the woods bordering every edge of the lawn. Blackberry, raspberry, and rose vines did their level best to snag me, perhaps in retaliation for my mass slaughter of defenseless flowers. Five thousand and more steps later, the job was done.

For a few weeks, at least.

GoshWow Display Idea

2008-05-11T11:36:17Z

Thanks to Irene Gallo's blog, The Art Department, I now want to work on a high-budget sf convention in a facility with one or more centrally-located staircases.

Why? Take a look at her picture of this stairway at this year's New York Comicon. Then look at the Aleksi Briclot Stairway, too.

Brilliant. Best OMG Display Idea I've seen in years.

Irene's Comicon post is well worth reading, too -- especially her "Five Ways Not to Introduce Yourself to an Art Director." (Mentioned with a tip o'the appreciation hat in the direction of pnh's Sidelights at Making Light.)

If you haven't seen them yet, there's also Irene's post about John Berkey and her well-assembled collection of links to John Berkey tributes by others.

2008: First Hummingbird

2008-05-09T17:34:48Z

Earlier this week, I hung the hummingbird feeder in its usual spot directly outside my office window. It's about two arm lengths from where I sit. A few seconds before I started this post, I heard and saw the first hummingbird of the season.

Hey, at least I was ahead of the hummers this year. Some years, I only do it after I hear them buzzing around, looking, looking.

In other signs of spring, the first dandelion poked its head up through the concrete just outside my door. That was a couple of weeks ago, actually. A day later, I counted 52 dandelions on the hillside. Then there were hundreds and more. This week, they were joined and outnumbered by the violets. So pretty. It's a shame it's time to mow. I know from past experience that the job only gets harder. Not physically harder, well, okay, a bit. Mostly it's harder because the hillside quickly reverts to meadow and that's just too pretty to mow. I don't know exactly why I still do. Appearances and perceived resale value...and the sense that if I let it go that I'll eventually have to pay someone to reclaim the lawn since the job will quickly grow beyond me.

I've been utterly hammered with design and related projects this week. Overall, that's good, much though I would like a bit more flexibility it my schedule to get other things done, too. Or even to get all of the projects themselves done.

In five more days, I'll celebrate my 4th anniversary here. Time's passing quickly -- it seems more like two years than four.

Come with me...to the Moon

2008-05-02T03:46:23Z

Well, not me, precisely, just my name. And I won't be going to the Moon so much as circling around it in the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter. But, still....

NASA has a clever public relations activity -- they're collecting names, putting them in a database on a microchip, and including it on the lunar orbiter that will be launched later this year.

Send Your Name to the Moon.

Beside sending your name to the moon, you can print and/or download a pdf of a spiffy participation certificate. I have certificate #449905. What's your's?

(There's a deadline of June 27, 2008, so sign up before then if you're going to, okay?)