Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Monday, July 03, 2006
Later that day...
My doctor was called away on an emergency, so I was lying on the table for a half hour, pondering things:
Oh, and no shower for 48 hours. I'm glad that they still make spray deodorant.
One of the signs in the hospital parking garage says, "Exit to Entry Ramp." We were looking for the Entry to Exit Ramp.
Thanks for your notes and prayers and holding me in the light.
- Sen. Ted Stevens' (R-Ork) masterful explanation of the internets.
- How Montonians became the arbiters of style and architecture?
- Do I want Twinkie Tacos for lunch?
Oh, and no shower for 48 hours. I'm glad that they still make spray deodorant.
One of the signs in the hospital parking garage says, "Exit to Entry Ramp." We were looking for the Entry to Exit Ramp.
Thanks for your notes and prayers and holding me in the light.
Bring on the kitchen implements
Sandra will drive me in to the hospital for the surgery this morning. Adam has described the procedure as using a melon baller to remove the cancer. I expect to be home by late morning. I won't be able to go swimming for a couple of weeks and will, for the rest of my life, have to be more fastidious about using sunscreen. Yesterday, for example, I was using the string trimmer to clear away the long grass and brush on the camp road. Even though it was cloudy, my skin was pink when I went back indoors. My legs also looked as though someone had been throwing darts at them, such is the effect of wearing shorts while using a string trimmer on a gravel road.
Meanwhile, the medical profession learns that patient care involves the whole family.
Arlo Guthrie talked about a concert that he did with Pete Seeger in Berlin afgter the Wall fell. The concert was going alright, but people weren't singing along as much because, well, Pete and Arlo were singing mostly American tunes. The song that broke through was that American folk classic that begins: Wise men say, only fools rush in.... If you want people to sing along, you can't wrong with an Elvis song. That universality extended to a meeting between Japanese Prime Minister Koizumi and our own W at Graceland.
Peter Gammons, of ESPN and formerly of the Boston Globe, had a brain aneurysm last week. Several years ago, I sat in front of Gammons on a flight from Dallas to Boston. My father and I were returning from my uncle's funeral in St. Louis and I'd managed to get ticket upgrades for us. Gammons was coming back from the baseball winter meetings where the big topic was Alex Rodriguez's $160-someodd million contract with Texas. The guys on the place wanted to talk about A-Rod and Gammons just wanted some sleep.
I like my job, even though we're heading into a series of impossible deadlines and so wind up playing the game of chicken. I still keep my automated and informal job searches going along, just to be safe. Last week I received an invitation to go to work at another high-tech company. (I declined.) My automated search for a technical documentation job turned up this gem: a sanitation supervisor for Kellogg in Memphis.
Daryl Gates was chief of the LAPD and key innovations to urban policing, notable the special weapons and tactics (SWAT) team. His career, however, flamed out after the riots following the Rodney King verdict in 1992. So, where is he now? He's working with a company that auctions confiscated property after the property is no longer needed as evidence. For example, would you like to buy a Pallet Of Servers And Components? Current bid is $10.
Meanwhile, the medical profession learns that patient care involves the whole family.
Arlo Guthrie talked about a concert that he did with Pete Seeger in Berlin afgter the Wall fell. The concert was going alright, but people weren't singing along as much because, well, Pete and Arlo were singing mostly American tunes. The song that broke through was that American folk classic that begins: Wise men say, only fools rush in.... If you want people to sing along, you can't wrong with an Elvis song. That universality extended to a meeting between Japanese Prime Minister Koizumi and our own W at Graceland.
Peter Gammons, of ESPN and formerly of the Boston Globe, had a brain aneurysm last week. Several years ago, I sat in front of Gammons on a flight from Dallas to Boston. My father and I were returning from my uncle's funeral in St. Louis and I'd managed to get ticket upgrades for us. Gammons was coming back from the baseball winter meetings where the big topic was Alex Rodriguez's $160-someodd million contract with Texas. The guys on the place wanted to talk about A-Rod and Gammons just wanted some sleep.
I like my job, even though we're heading into a series of impossible deadlines and so wind up playing the game of chicken. I still keep my automated and informal job searches going along, just to be safe. Last week I received an invitation to go to work at another high-tech company. (I declined.) My automated search for a technical documentation job turned up this gem: a sanitation supervisor for Kellogg in Memphis.
Daryl Gates was chief of the LAPD and key innovations to urban policing, notable the special weapons and tactics (SWAT) team. His career, however, flamed out after the riots following the Rodney King verdict in 1992. So, where is he now? He's working with a company that auctions confiscated property after the property is no longer needed as evidence. For example, would you like to buy a Pallet Of Servers And Components? Current bid is $10.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Are you drinking too much? A new BlackBerry ebook has advice - BBHub
Are you drinking too much? A new BlackBerry ebook has advice - BBHub
Hint: if you're drinking too much, it's probably not because your BlackBerry doesn't have the right stuff on it.
Hint: if you're drinking too much, it's probably not because your BlackBerry doesn't have the right stuff on it.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Ed Bott's Windows Expertise » Best line of the day
Ed Bott's Windows Expertise » Best line of the day:
“Warren Buffett is so rich, he’s hired Bill Gates to spend his money.”
Stephen Colbert
“Warren Buffett is so rich, he’s hired Bill Gates to spend his money.”
Stephen Colbert
Huge Asteroid to Fly Past Earth July 3 - Yahoo! News
If you hear a great "Whoosh" sound on July 3, be grateful that you heard anything at all.
Monday, June 26, 2006
there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon ...
This morning's appointment with the surgeon turned out to be a consultation. The surgery is scheduled for next Monday.
If you didn't work at DEC or work on DEC gear, you can skip the next paragraph and, instead, reflect on What Dogs Hear.
The title of this note comes from Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant. As I was checking for the exact quote (found here), I found a reworking of the tune for the elder geeks among this readership: Alice's PDP-10. Those who remember the KL10-series will also remember that other sweet, old tune: I dont' care what people say, 36 bits are here to stay.
If you didn't work at DEC or work on DEC gear, you can skip the next paragraph and, instead, reflect on What Dogs Hear.
The title of this note comes from Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant. As I was checking for the exact quote (found here), I found a reworking of the tune for the elder geeks among this readership: Alice's PDP-10. Those who remember the KL10-series will also remember that other sweet, old tune: I dont' care what people say, 36 bits are here to stay.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
The power of words
You don't have to work with words for a living to know that power is distributed unevenly to words and phrases. So it was last week when I called my doctor's office to describe my symptoms - fever, chills, um, colorful coughing, and Darth Vaderesque breathing. The nurse said that I should see the doctor now because "it could be pneumonia." I received a prescription for a strong antibiotic and an appointment for a chest x-ray. Most of us, when sick, want to know that we have something real and, even better, measurable, lest we be thought of as slackers.
A bunch of years ago, 25 perhaps, I stopped for an ice cream home on my way back from a mid-day appointment. When I got out of the car, I noticed smoke and flames coming out from under the hood. I walked in to the Baskin & Robbins and asked the young woman behind the counter if she could call the fire department. I also ordered my ice cream cone and enjoyed it while I watched the fire fighters spray foam into the engine compartment.
When my doctor told me on Friday that the mole I'd had removed the previous week was "malignant melanoma," I sat up a bit straighter, but didn't flinch. Tomorrow morning, the surgeon will remove an area around the original incision, "clearing the margins," they call it. I'll take the day off and then see what kinds of follow-up appointments and treatments are called for.
As you'd expect, I do spend time thinking about what this means. Whatever it is, I'm grateful - grateful for what I have and grateful for what this will teach me.
Medical advances have given us many more options when treating difficult conditions. Nevertheless, if someone offers botox injections as a treatment for depression, you might want to think it through.
Or, if you have a great need to cut yourself and your nurse says, "Just don't get anything on the carpet," it would be fair to start a discussion about who's really crazy here.
Sandra ordered curried chicken and I requested spicy string beans with beef when we went to a local Chinese restaurant the other night. A short while later, the waiter delivered our dinners and quickly disappeared. While we listened to such elevator-favorite tunes such as Guantanamera, done in an ersatz Chinese style, we enjoyed our meals, even though what Sandra received wasn't what she ordered. Some time later, the waiter reappeared and asked us if everything was all right.
"This is good," Sandra said, pointing to the sweet, orange-flavored pieces of chicken on the plate, "but it isn't what I ordered."
"It's better," he said and went away.
A bunch of years ago, 25 perhaps, I stopped for an ice cream home on my way back from a mid-day appointment. When I got out of the car, I noticed smoke and flames coming out from under the hood. I walked in to the Baskin & Robbins and asked the young woman behind the counter if she could call the fire department. I also ordered my ice cream cone and enjoyed it while I watched the fire fighters spray foam into the engine compartment.
When my doctor told me on Friday that the mole I'd had removed the previous week was "malignant melanoma," I sat up a bit straighter, but didn't flinch. Tomorrow morning, the surgeon will remove an area around the original incision, "clearing the margins," they call it. I'll take the day off and then see what kinds of follow-up appointments and treatments are called for.
As you'd expect, I do spend time thinking about what this means. Whatever it is, I'm grateful - grateful for what I have and grateful for what this will teach me.
Medical advances have given us many more options when treating difficult conditions. Nevertheless, if someone offers botox injections as a treatment for depression, you might want to think it through.
Or, if you have a great need to cut yourself and your nurse says, "Just don't get anything on the carpet," it would be fair to start a discussion about who's really crazy here.
Sandra ordered curried chicken and I requested spicy string beans with beef when we went to a local Chinese restaurant the other night. A short while later, the waiter delivered our dinners and quickly disappeared. While we listened to such elevator-favorite tunes such as Guantanamera, done in an ersatz Chinese style, we enjoyed our meals, even though what Sandra received wasn't what she ordered. Some time later, the waiter reappeared and asked us if everything was all right.
"This is good," Sandra said, pointing to the sweet, orange-flavored pieces of chicken on the plate, "but it isn't what I ordered."
"It's better," he said and went away.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
EmacsWiki: EmacsAndLife
EmacsWiki: EmacsAndLife: "Calling EMACS an editor is like calling the Earth a hunk of dirt."
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
The dog that barked
Uh-oh. When I came home from work Monday night, Marley barked. It was just a single "Woof," but a telling one. Marley hadn't barked at me for several years. Back then, and now, I'd go in to work early and staying late.
Our need for longer work days is quite real. I have something like 10 books due by the end of July, including two by the end of this month. They aren't big books, but they're challenging. We have a demanding customer. Each week, in one forum or another, we have conference calls where we learn how the customer wants more documentation with greater technical depth and, oh, by the way, can you also improve the stuff you released last year?
Nevertheless, every day I say, "I work hard, but this isn't hard work."
We've also moved our offices. The cubicles are nicer, larger, but it's still like being in an airplane for nine hours a day. The neighbors are close and idiosyncratic. My next door neighbor has a cold, sneezing, coughing, and blowing his nose in a manner that would keep the ships safe at sea. When I get to the office early, I can listen to a co-worker two aisles over play America the Beautiful on his computer. Someone has burnt toast for breakfast every day. I'm certain that I do things that attract the attention of my neighbors, so I don't get too torqued about my neighbors' quirks. I wouldn't mind, however, if the guy with the cold would take a few days off.
This move was simple; I just barely filled one moving box. At a previous job, I won the Pack Rat award for having the most boxes o' stuff, 17 or 18, I think.
Moving in the opposite direction for most technology companies, HP is eliminating the telecommuting option for some of its employees. There's no question that in-person meetings are helpful (witness the amount of traveling that I've done). Nevertheless, with broadband Internet, cell phones, instant messaging, and such, physical location matters little. For example, albeit a slightly screwy example, on short-notice, I had to join a late-day conference call. Sandra and I rode to work together. On the way home then, I listened to the conference call, with my dorky little earpiece and she could listen to her recorded book.
At a time in my life when most people, young and old, are calling me Sir, the pharmacy technician at the neighborhood drug store greets me by my first name and then checks to see how many prescriptions I have waiting for me.
Adam, Jennie, and Lily had come to the camp a couple of weeks ago to help us get the boat into the water. The boat guy had a few more things to do before the launching. He was an hour and half late and forgot some key parts. He did what he could and left, to return a few days later. Jennie observed that BG looked and acted like Otto from The Simpsons.
Our need for longer work days is quite real. I have something like 10 books due by the end of July, including two by the end of this month. They aren't big books, but they're challenging. We have a demanding customer. Each week, in one forum or another, we have conference calls where we learn how the customer wants more documentation with greater technical depth and, oh, by the way, can you also improve the stuff you released last year?
Nevertheless, every day I say, "I work hard, but this isn't hard work."
We've also moved our offices. The cubicles are nicer, larger, but it's still like being in an airplane for nine hours a day. The neighbors are close and idiosyncratic. My next door neighbor has a cold, sneezing, coughing, and blowing his nose in a manner that would keep the ships safe at sea. When I get to the office early, I can listen to a co-worker two aisles over play America the Beautiful on his computer. Someone has burnt toast for breakfast every day. I'm certain that I do things that attract the attention of my neighbors, so I don't get too torqued about my neighbors' quirks. I wouldn't mind, however, if the guy with the cold would take a few days off.
This move was simple; I just barely filled one moving box. At a previous job, I won the Pack Rat award for having the most boxes o' stuff, 17 or 18, I think.
Moving in the opposite direction for most technology companies, HP is eliminating the telecommuting option for some of its employees. There's no question that in-person meetings are helpful (witness the amount of traveling that I've done). Nevertheless, with broadband Internet, cell phones, instant messaging, and such, physical location matters little. For example, albeit a slightly screwy example, on short-notice, I had to join a late-day conference call. Sandra and I rode to work together. On the way home then, I listened to the conference call, with my dorky little earpiece and she could listen to her recorded book.
At a time in my life when most people, young and old, are calling me Sir, the pharmacy technician at the neighborhood drug store greets me by my first name and then checks to see how many prescriptions I have waiting for me.
Adam, Jennie, and Lily had come to the camp a couple of weeks ago to help us get the boat into the water. The boat guy had a few more things to do before the launching. He was an hour and half late and forgot some key parts. He did what he could and left, to return a few days later. Jennie observed that BG looked and acted like Otto from The Simpsons.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
One Grande ChiliDogerino, hold the onions
You can tell right away that you're in Amherst, even if you ignore all of the ivy-covered buildings or the Rip-Van-Winkle-esque hippies in the natural foods store. It's the bumper stickers. It's the aging Toyota with Democratic campaign stickers from the last two state and national elections. (They all lost.) This year's winner was on the back of a small pickup truck:
This was my annual return to campus during Reunion weekend. At one point, I'd make a day of it, visiting with professors, hanging out in the coffee shops, nosing through favorite bookstores. Most of those professors have since retired, although I did get a chance to chat with my religion professor. The coffee shops that aren't Starbuck's are gone. And books. I'll read a book again someday, for sure.
"A celebration of summer, with its sweet flavor of juicy sun-kissed blueberries baked to perfection in a buttery crust." That sounds nice, but it shouldn't be a description for my morning coffee. Last week, in our New York office, some samples of the blueberry coffee showed up. Some people said it was good, but I kept walking. I like chili dogs and I like lima beans, but I'm not going to put them in my coffee.
And, last night, I stopped into a store for a newspaper. A young man at the other counter requested two strawberry cigars, and not bubble gum cigars, either.
Woody and Marian have returned for a short stay. They'll go to the Cape to visit with their new grandsons. They have doctors' appointments this week and next and plan to return to the Island to prepare for summer visitors.
If the Grateful Dead decide to get the band together and call to ask if you'd like to be their keyboard player, tell 'em you're busy.
Before long, we'll have our iPods surgically implanted, with a USB jack in our navels and the ear buds grafted onto our tympanic membranes. Until then, we get this.
Footnote: the Blogger spell-checker didn't recognize the word Starbuck's and offered this instead:
(Strabismus is the medical term for cross-eyed.)
Support the No Sheep Left Behind ActIt was raining heavily during the time that I was on campus, so I didn't see a lot of people. The people I did see, however, were white - alumni, spouses, and kids. I met one black campus police officer.
This was my annual return to campus during Reunion weekend. At one point, I'd make a day of it, visiting with professors, hanging out in the coffee shops, nosing through favorite bookstores. Most of those professors have since retired, although I did get a chance to chat with my religion professor. The coffee shops that aren't Starbuck's are gone. And books. I'll read a book again someday, for sure.
"A celebration of summer, with its sweet flavor of juicy sun-kissed blueberries baked to perfection in a buttery crust." That sounds nice, but it shouldn't be a description for my morning coffee. Last week, in our New York office, some samples of the blueberry coffee showed up. Some people said it was good, but I kept walking. I like chili dogs and I like lima beans, but I'm not going to put them in my coffee.
And, last night, I stopped into a store for a newspaper. A young man at the other counter requested two strawberry cigars, and not bubble gum cigars, either.
Woody and Marian have returned for a short stay. They'll go to the Cape to visit with their new grandsons. They have doctors' appointments this week and next and plan to return to the Island to prepare for summer visitors.
If the Grateful Dead decide to get the band together and call to ask if you'd like to be their keyboard player, tell 'em you're busy.
Before long, we'll have our iPods surgically implanted, with a USB jack in our navels and the ear buds grafted onto our tympanic membranes. Until then, we get this.
Footnote: the Blogger spell-checker didn't recognize the word Starbuck's and offered this instead:
(Strabismus is the medical term for cross-eyed.)
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Doggie Dog
This week in New York, I've had meetings with J., one of our senior software architects. We're trying to clarify some of the processes associated with the way that we build and release our products. The fun part is that, along with writing the process manual, I have the chance to contribute some code. I'm a bit reticent, however, about telling my boss. Even though this is much needed work for the current release, I also have enough other work to drown a giraffe.
English is not the native language for this architect. His is a Yiddish/Russian accent, very pleasant to listen to. He speaks well and has good command of English, but idioms sometimes take him by surprise. In meetings that were addressing the competetive challenges ahead for our company, someone used the phrase, "It's a dog-eat-dog world." J. heard "Doggie Dog," which made no sense, nor did the rest of the meeting make sense because of that one odd phrase. He finally did ask another meeting-goer, who explained the phrase, enunciating clearly.
A few weeks ago, I received a letter informing me that I had achieved gold status in this hotel chain's frequent-stayer program. As a result of my elite rating, I now qualify for a gold-colored strip of paper that describes one of the amenities that I've been receiving all along. I just hadn't received the strip of paper before.
"Enjoy your sleep amenities," said the clerk when I'd completed the check-in process.
In a creepier occurrence, I tried to go down the stairway to leave the building by the back way. I'd been sitting all day and the walk down the stairs did me some good. I followed the emergency exit signs to the bottom. The door was jammed shut. I went back to the lobby and spoke to a clerk about this dangerous situation. He was more interested in letting me know that the other exit door was alarmed. I'll go back to the first stairwell today. If the door is not fixed, my next call will be to the city's building inspector.
Would you buy Reese's Peanut Butter Lip Balm? If you can't find it in your local stores, eBay can bring this magical palliative to your weary lips.
No Amnety: This picture has made its way around the Internet in the last few days. My first suspicion was that someone altered the picture with Photoshop or similar photo editing product. The site that's hosting the picture is the web site for The Republic, a newspaper in Columbus, Indiana. Access to the paper's archives are restricted to subscribers. I was able to get at letters to the editor, written the day after the photo was printed, indicating that the writers were seeing what we can see.
As I drove from my father's house to the camp recently, I passed by Ronnie's house. Ronnie moved to the midwest quite a while ago. I've lost track of what happened to his brother,
Jerry, and his parents. The large field next to Ronnie's house was our football field and baseball field. None of us went on to play sports in high school, so it was just a place for kids to have fun. The field now is on its way to becoming woods. I still see a field there.
Ronnie was a drummer, sometimes in rock-and-roll bands, more often in competitive drum corps. For his practice, he would play along with records. From his collection, I first heard the Yardbirds, playing "For Your Love," and the Shadows of Knight, playing a cover of a Van Morrison/Them tune, "Gloria."
So, in rock-and-roll bands in the 60s, we play Gloria and we played Louie Louie, by The Kingsmen. (As Bono would later explain it all, "All I got is a red guitar, three chords, and the truth.") What we lacked in talent we filled with earnestness. Anyway, as most of you know, Louie Louie was a controversial song in its time. Controversial because no one could understand a word of what the singer was singing. And, because no one could understand what he was singing, parents feared and kids hoped that the lyrics were dirty. Enter the FBI. Here are some of the files that the FBI collected about this venerable song. (Caution - some of the pages do contain language and descriptions that might be offensive.) Here are the real lyrics, according to the president of the record company. The FBI, with all the resources that the agency could bring, determined that it couldn't understand a word of what the singer was singing.
English is not the native language for this architect. His is a Yiddish/Russian accent, very pleasant to listen to. He speaks well and has good command of English, but idioms sometimes take him by surprise. In meetings that were addressing the competetive challenges ahead for our company, someone used the phrase, "It's a dog-eat-dog world." J. heard "Doggie Dog," which made no sense, nor did the rest of the meeting make sense because of that one odd phrase. He finally did ask another meeting-goer, who explained the phrase, enunciating clearly.
A few weeks ago, I received a letter informing me that I had achieved gold status in this hotel chain's frequent-stayer program. As a result of my elite rating, I now qualify for a gold-colored strip of paper that describes one of the amenities that I've been receiving all along. I just hadn't received the strip of paper before.
"Enjoy your sleep amenities," said the clerk when I'd completed the check-in process.
In a creepier occurrence, I tried to go down the stairway to leave the building by the back way. I'd been sitting all day and the walk down the stairs did me some good. I followed the emergency exit signs to the bottom. The door was jammed shut. I went back to the lobby and spoke to a clerk about this dangerous situation. He was more interested in letting me know that the other exit door was alarmed. I'll go back to the first stairwell today. If the door is not fixed, my next call will be to the city's building inspector.
Would you buy Reese's Peanut Butter Lip Balm? If you can't find it in your local stores, eBay can bring this magical palliative to your weary lips.
No Amnety: This picture has made its way around the Internet in the last few days. My first suspicion was that someone altered the picture with Photoshop or similar photo editing product. The site that's hosting the picture is the web site for The Republic, a newspaper in Columbus, Indiana. Access to the paper's archives are restricted to subscribers. I was able to get at letters to the editor, written the day after the photo was printed, indicating that the writers were seeing what we can see.
As I drove from my father's house to the camp recently, I passed by Ronnie's house. Ronnie moved to the midwest quite a while ago. I've lost track of what happened to his brother,
Jerry, and his parents. The large field next to Ronnie's house was our football field and baseball field. None of us went on to play sports in high school, so it was just a place for kids to have fun. The field now is on its way to becoming woods. I still see a field there.
Ronnie was a drummer, sometimes in rock-and-roll bands, more often in competitive drum corps. For his practice, he would play along with records. From his collection, I first heard the Yardbirds, playing "For Your Love," and the Shadows of Knight, playing a cover of a Van Morrison/Them tune, "Gloria."
So, in rock-and-roll bands in the 60s, we play Gloria and we played Louie Louie, by The Kingsmen. (As Bono would later explain it all, "All I got is a red guitar, three chords, and the truth.") What we lacked in talent we filled with earnestness. Anyway, as most of you know, Louie Louie was a controversial song in its time. Controversial because no one could understand a word of what the singer was singing. And, because no one could understand what he was singing, parents feared and kids hoped that the lyrics were dirty. Enter the FBI. Here are some of the files that the FBI collected about this venerable song. (Caution - some of the pages do contain language and descriptions that might be offensive.) Here are the real lyrics, according to the president of the record company. The FBI, with all the resources that the agency could bring, determined that it couldn't understand a word of what the singer was singing.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
North by northeast, north by northwest, southwest, and east
Sandra and Krista went to PEI on Thursday. When our grandchildren turn 10, Sandra takes them on a trip to the Island. They fly out Boston early, stop over in Halifax (long enough for a massage at the terminal, and then take one short flight to Charlottetown, where Woody and Marian meet them.
Thursday night's meal was the Whim Inn at Poole's Corner. The waitress who served this hungry crew was the same one who served us five years ago. The rolls are so big that it would take an African swallow to carry them. The meals are straight down the alley and good. (I might, however, give the liver and onions a miss. When my mother served liver, as she often did, the cat and I had a special arrangement - I'd drop a piece of liver on the floor and he'd eat it.)
On Friday, Woody and Krista went to local fishing spot. Krista caught three large Rainbow trout and learned how to clean them. Those trout were Friday night's supper.
On Saturday they went to a cousin's for afternoon tea and then to the local church for their annual lobster supper. The small church collects more than $10,000 in less than four hours, not bad in a village of 400 people.
Between the meals, there was fun in every corner. Krista brought her piano music, so she, Marian, and Sandra played and sang for a long time. There were card games, Monopoly, walks on the beach to collect shells. Woody and Marian are lovingly generous with their gifts and attention.
Sunday morning, on the 50km drive from Cardigan to the Charlottetown airport, they didn't pass a car. Sandra and Krista this time flew from Charlottetown to Toronto. After navigating the massive Pearson Airport, they went through U.S. customs, and then learned that the airline didn't have a pilot for the plane. When Sandra called me with this news, I went to the Massport (Boston) web site and signed up for flight notifications. The would send me email when the flight was rescheduled and when it would land. An hour and a half after we'd left Logan Airport and were in Mike and Lynn's back yard, I got an email saying that the plane had landed.
Just as Sandra and Krista were arriving in Charlottetown on Thursday, one of the storied shopping attractions was closing.
Dell had an insert in the Sunday papers. They offered a range of deals for household and business use. One system, the OptiplexTM GX520 Desktop for $599. Below the price was this mind-twizzler:
Dual-core capable business desktop; features managed transitions and average 15-month life cycles.I know what dual-core means, but managed transitions has me baffled and 15-month life cycles, if it's what I think it is (replace this machine every 15 months) is absolutely goofy. Whatever it means, Strunk and White surrender.
So, it's back to work after a restful long weekend. I can't imagine that this week can be more bizarre than last, but I couldn't imagine last week, either. One snippet - I was part of team from our company and a customer, working on a design document. We had a six and one-half hour conference call on Thursday. And the end of the meeting, around 4:30, one of the engineers said that she had some more information for me and would send it within the hour. At 6:15, she calls to say that she had been side-tracked on some other issues. "I wasn't able to get my work done," she said. "You'll still be able to have your work done by nine in the morning, won't you?"
We have lilies of the valley along the back corner of the MacGregors' part of the house. The fragrance is strong and sweet. Even a handful of blossoms will fill a room.
The weekend was restful, but also somber, of course, as we remember those who died in service and those who died as the result of their service.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Fine is the day that is with us
Our yard has provided a steady supply of flowers, in spite of the heavy rain that crumpled flowers in other parts of the state. Sandra has put tulips and now lilacs on the table by the window in the family room, where we have our meals. The lilacs, white, have a rich, sweet smell.
We'll try again today to get the water on at the camp and to get the boat in the water. We will have four generations of Hakkarainens, plus Andy, the boat guy. (When Andy isn't working on boats, cars, or other vehicles, he's selling a bug repellent called Andy's Bug Juice.)
One of the fundamental laws of the camp is that, at some point, you'll need something that's at the other place. Last week, we needed the set of locking pliers that are in the cupboard at home. (We might have used one of these.) My father has a chain wrench that would have done the job, but his was at his house. Adam had the right wrenches also, and also at his house. This week, we'll have three of the right tools and will need something else.
Camp fare, as you might expect, tends toward the simpler choices. Our favorite supper is eggs and beans. We'll have hot dogs for lunch. HJ Heinz, ever on the cutting edge of cuisine, is test-marketing a new frozen-food delicacy - beans on toast. Pop it in the toaster and, a minute later, you have, well, you have beans on toast, a nice side dish, perhaps, for a gummi t-bone steak.
During a discussion in the North Carolina legislature regarding ethics and how much money can legislators can receive from whom, one representative put everything in perspective. "Even the baby Jesus accepted gifts, and I don't think it corrupted him," said Rep. Drew Saunders, a Mecklenburg County Democrat.
There's a good chance for more rain tomorrow. So, to keep the kids entertained, it's a good idea to have coloring books on hand, such as Tommy Tsunami and Ernie Earthquake Coloring Book.
The summer forecast in Britain isn't good. Those lovely English roses won't do well when it starts raining frogs and fishes.
Until the showers or the BFOs (Bizarre Falling Objects), we'll enjoy this sunny day. The rain or jellyfish or coal will find us soon enough. Even if they do, we'll be ok.
Happy Anniversary, Sandra. We still got it.
We'll try again today to get the water on at the camp and to get the boat in the water. We will have four generations of Hakkarainens, plus Andy, the boat guy. (When Andy isn't working on boats, cars, or other vehicles, he's selling a bug repellent called Andy's Bug Juice.)
One of the fundamental laws of the camp is that, at some point, you'll need something that's at the other place. Last week, we needed the set of locking pliers that are in the cupboard at home. (We might have used one of these.) My father has a chain wrench that would have done the job, but his was at his house. Adam had the right wrenches also, and also at his house. This week, we'll have three of the right tools and will need something else.
Camp fare, as you might expect, tends toward the simpler choices. Our favorite supper is eggs and beans. We'll have hot dogs for lunch. HJ Heinz, ever on the cutting edge of cuisine, is test-marketing a new frozen-food delicacy - beans on toast. Pop it in the toaster and, a minute later, you have, well, you have beans on toast, a nice side dish, perhaps, for a gummi t-bone steak.
During a discussion in the North Carolina legislature regarding ethics and how much money can legislators can receive from whom, one representative put everything in perspective. "Even the baby Jesus accepted gifts, and I don't think it corrupted him," said Rep. Drew Saunders, a Mecklenburg County Democrat.
There's a good chance for more rain tomorrow. So, to keep the kids entertained, it's a good idea to have coloring books on hand, such as Tommy Tsunami and Ernie Earthquake Coloring Book.
The summer forecast in Britain isn't good. Those lovely English roses won't do well when it starts raining frogs and fishes.
Until the showers or the BFOs (Bizarre Falling Objects), we'll enjoy this sunny day. The rain or jellyfish or coal will find us soon enough. Even if they do, we'll be ok.
Happy Anniversary, Sandra. We still got it.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
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