What a Week!

This has been quite the week around here. It's not that I haven't had time to sit down and write, it's just that I haven't had a block of time, which is what this requires. Starting and stopping and starting and stopping makes it harder to keep the train of thought from derailing, and ideas kept popping in and out. It was a mess. Now, however, I have some time and will take advantage of it.

The new job responsibilities are settling in, but it's still huge. I have a boatload of stuff to work through, but with help and cooperation I'm at least not falling too much farther behind. I don't know that I'm gaining, either, but looking at what it was and what it is, I feel pretty good.

I got the paper mess sorted out (literally). Then I took the items that I had cleared out - about one-half a Banker's file storage box full - sorted out (literally), and have started sending these things off to the people who have to say 'yay' or 'nay' on clearing them out of the system. I've gotten most back, although there are a couple of batches still hanging. I'll send another reminder on Monday, and then pick up the phone.

The problem is, if I don't get responses to these, the pile will just keep getting bigger and it already is. I picked up two big batches on Thursday and Friday, and weaned through that. Low-hanging fruit is gone, so I have to start chipping away at the rock.

Along with this new stuff is the stuff that I was doing - I still have to keep on top of that, so it's a double-challenge because neither is hard but both are time consuming, which means I don't have as much time or energy for other things as I would like.

In politics, one of the best laughs I had this week was seeing Hilliary barking like a dog at one of her events. If she was Howard Dean, with the scream which sank his candidacy a few years ago, she'd be gone by now. But she's not. She's Hilliary - the Anointed One by the DNC and the donors. Although this is getting interesting what with the FBI investigation and some now saying she should step down while the investigation is underway. Yeah. That has a snowball's chance.

Whatever. So she's barking like a dog at a rally and someone picks up on that and does a musical remix, which is funnier than Hades - even if I liked Hilliary it would be funny.

'Who Let The Dogs Out' featuring Hilliary Clinton

Quite presidential, wasn't it? Imagine if that had been any of the GOP candidates - Donald Trump or Ted Cruz. The press would be on constant replay for days. But, no. Hilliary, as always, gets a pass. Nonetheless, it is funny.

And Obie-One, surprise, surprise, surprise, took a pass on Scalia's funeral. He couldn't be arsed to spend an hour or so looking appropriately glum so, to avoid trying to hide that disgusting smile of glee, I suspect he probably hit the golf course. Assuming it wasn't raining. Although, if it was raining in Washington DC, he probably ordered up Air Force One, damn the carbon footprint, and flew to somewhere where it isn't raining so he could put in a round or two before heading to Cuba next week.

Politics as usual, in other words.

In a completely different part of the world, I promised myself that I was going to take a walk on Tuesday. I had wanted to go out on Monday but other life things intervened. So I did walk on Tuesday and I did something I've wanted to do for a while. I took pictures - not photographic quality, just snaps - of some of the architecture in Calistoga.

The term 'eclectic' is somewhat overused in this day and age. Pick up any home decorating magazine and there it is. However, nothing describes the architecture of Calistoga like 'eclectic'. There are craftsman 'cottages', shotgun architecture, French Provincial, California Victorians and mixed up little places that don't really fit any particular style. I did go online to see if I could find any information about some of these buildings, particularly the older ones - 1888 and 1890 - but found nada. Still, they are beautiful.

Here's just a sample, and I apologize for not showing street scenes but even in February Calistoga is packed with tourists. If you want to see tourists, look at pictures of Disneyland. So I didn't take pictures of the tourists, just the bits and pieces of the buildings - the details of them - that interest me.

If you look through the branches in the picture above, you can see 1890 etched into the stone. The building looks like it might have been a bank, once upon a time.

The dark lines on the trim in the picture above are carved, not painted. If the sun were slightly lower, the light would shine through. From inside, I think it would be captivating to see the sunlight through those little embellishments. And across and down this street is this pretty little cottage with its gingerbread trim:

Along with all the other styles, there's this little Greek Orthodox church. It's not as grand as Saint Olga's in Santa Rosa, but it's humble and homey and cute.

And, just for fun, I took a picture of a little fur-baby (s/he and the family were out all over the place, but this is the only one who stopped long enough for me to get a portrait):

And, along the way, I saw these:

So that was my lovely Tuesday and then, Wednesday through yesterday, it was cold, blustery and rainy making Tuesday better than it was.

Wishing you a lovely weekend!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Sunday Morning In Paradise

Ahhhh, Sunday. Lazy, quiet Sunday. It's... not quiet at all. It's busy as can be and isn't going to let up.

Just household chores and cooking - roasting Brussels sprouts with garlic and quartered mushrooms. Baking my chicken and cooking my rice and sauteing my bell peppers and mushrooms. None of it's hard, it's just time consuming and rather boring between the waiting for it to finish and the clearing up. The good news is that I do this just once a week. It's not like I do this every day or every few days, so that's not bad.

What I make today will feed me for at least a week. Although the sprouts might not last that long. They come out of the oven so sweet and so savory that I have a hard time not eating all of them in a sitting. It's amazing what just a little olive oil, a few sprouts (trimmed) and some balsamic vinegar can do. So yummy. My mouth is watering.

Before getting downstairs this morning, though, the first thing I did was strip my bed and turn my mattress. It's a good thing it's only a full-size. In my next phase I'm thinking of getting a queen set but when I get to the store to pick it out, I'm going to see if I can woman-handle it by myself - spin it laterally and turn it over. If I can't, I'll stick to the smaller mattress. After all, just how much acreage does one person need? A queen set would be nice because, honestly, the full is just a little too short - my feet stick over the end (and I'm not that tall!) when I stretch out and it's not wide enough for me to sleep diagonally all stretched out and not have my toes poke out over the end.

The sheets are in the dryer after being washed with my new pants - hot water because by the time I left the store yesterday my hands were stained with dye from the pants. I also hope they shrink a little. They were just a little too big but the size smaller was just a little too small. I want a happy medium, something that fits perfectly and comfortably. That's another reason I hate shopping - it's an impossible task to find the "perfect" fit which is why there are seamstresses out there. But I don't have the money, or the talent or skill, to refit the "one-size-fits-all" stuff I get from the store.

Compromise, all of life is compromise and this is another one.

It's raining today - which is lovely. We've been getting days upon days of rain interspersed with dry spells, and I'm still not tired of it. I'm still not to the point where I'm turning my back to the mirror, checking over my shoulder to see if the duck feathers are starting to sprout down my spine. That might be the case in another month or so, if the rain keeps up, but I've always liked rain.

I dug around in the garage this morning, too, looking for the old silverware we've kept from our early days of marriage. Sam, our cat, has his own set of utensils and dishes. We keep them in the bathroom drawer upstairs, in the same bathroom where we use the medicine cabinet as his pantry - full of cans of cat food. I prefer using a fork to break up the food while hubby prefers using a spoon. I win. Since I do the majority of the feeding, and since I ran out of forks day before yesterday, I went out into the garage, got some more forks and now the mix will be heavy on the forks. Fascinating stuff, huh?

It's all a part of life and living here, though, and it's a little opening into my world for you to peek through and see how this speck of the other half lives.

Hubby's coffee is set up. MIL's pills are sorted for another week. The kitchen counters are cleaned. The dishwasher has been emptied and the dishes from last night that wouldn't fit are tucked inside. Just little things, normal things we all do. So, no. Not fascinating, really. And this afternoon I'll roast my Brussels sprouts and saute my mushrooms and bell peppers and cook the rice and bake the chicken.

I may even make another batch of my berry syrup since I finished what I made last week. It is so good with yogurt or oatmeal or even over a banana as dessert. Yum.

Well, enough of this. I have hours of cooking ahead so I should get going and stop procrastinating.

Have a wonderful day doing what you choose and like!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

A Whirlwind In My Brain

It's a bit like having an E4 twister in my head. Since waking up this morning, I have had a parade of thoughts of things all over the landscape. No one thing has stood tall, front and center. Just random things like the weather, the cat, work, home, future, general stuff, The Stack, The Project, the weather, food (recipes, what I'm going to make for next week's lunches), etc.

Thinking about the home front and the work front and the carpet and all sorts of other things are keeping me busy. That's a good thing, except that the thoughts keep bumping hips, falling over and crumbling to dust when they hit the bottom of the brain pan. Then they coalesce, rebuild into something new and take another turn.

I had to stop and fill the tank this morning and, baby, it was cold outside. I had been listening to the news while I got dressed, for the traffic and weather more than anything else. At 0-dark-thirty it was 32d in the surrounding area. Getting gas was made semi-demi comfortable because I bundled up and wore gloves.

Coming over the hill a little later, it was misting and cold enough that I thought I might get to see some snow. I didn't and was/am a little disappointed.  Just a little snow would have been nice, like a dusting of powdered sugar over the top of a cookie or cake. But it just misted through the cold.

Normally the phrase "what are you wearing" is laden with all sorts of meaning. Most often that question touches on the suggestive. This morning I might as well have said "I'm wearing a wool union suit".

What I was / am wearing are: My heavy pair of jeans, a polyester short-sleeved tee under a synthetic blend sweater under a silk scarf under a plush-lined jacket under a synthetic fleece vest, under a synthetic knit scarf. Upon arrival I did take off the synthetic knit scarf and gloves before trying to type. And, despite the polar bear look of the fleece / jacket / scarf / sweater I was still chilled. Not cold, per se, but decidedly chilled with vaguely tingling fingers. It took a fair amount of hand rubbing to get the blood to flow and warm up the digits, but they're working now, so it's good.

The one thing that really made my morning was, believe it or not, a hot flash. Don't let anyone kid you. Menopause during the winter isn't all bad because there are times when the timing is perfect. Like this morning or, my favorite, when it's two o'clock in the morning, the house is freezing, and you wake up because you have to use the bathroom and... hot flash! Your very own portable heater that makes the freezing room comfy while you take care of what needs taking care of. By the time you get back to bed the worst of it has passed and you're ready to settle in and go back to sleep. Those are the good times for a private power surge.

Of course there are the other times, the summer times when it's 100d outside and you're spiking into the internal ionosphere. That's no fun. Then it's all you can do not to strip off completely, no matter whether you're on the sidewalk, in a restaurant or meeting, or someplace private. And in the someplace private I will confess to having done that until the requirement passes. Cool cloths only do so much, after all.

Front and center, on the work side of things, The Project I worked on came back to me again, for the third time. I hate when that happens. I feel as if I've failed when, more than anything, it's probably just a miss-in-communication. My understanding of what's needed isn't as clear as it should be, and I don't know enough about what I'm doing to ask cogent questions. That's one of the problems with stepping into another person's responsibilities with someone you haven't worked with before and are expected to hit the ground running while wearing a blindfold. Zero training. Zero real explanation. Just here's this and this and this and... it's all yours.

I've been around the block enough that this isn't unusual. It's still difficult and uncomfortable, but not unusual so I've done what I thought needed to be done. Nope. Came back and I took another swat. Then, with clearer understanding, I asked a couple of questions, parroted back what I thought I'd heard and got the green light.

So, now that it's clear and I do understand that further analysis is required, I'll get started. I even have a plan (yay, me!). First, I'm going to analyze the hell out of it. How many which ways to Sunday? That's step one. Step two is doing it, checking it, and then I'll toss this fish back across the fence. Once that's done, I'll dust my hands and head to the sink to wash the scales away.

After that there are other things. Like The Stack which, because it reached the point of ANNOYING, I spent an hour working on this morning. Things are better. ==> That side of my desk is clear, except for the coffee cup rings I didn't know were there are now showing. Obligatory wash down and at least the plastic surface will be both clear and clean. <== That side of my desk is piled a touch higher, but it's all good because it's now all in one place.

There are other little things swirling, but the big ones have stopped popping for the moment. So now I'll head off to do my analysis of The Project and then I'm going to get started on The Stack. Maybe I'll even dig down to China (or Japan or Korea or whatever characters those things on those documents are).

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

True Confessions.

After heaving a heavy sigh and deciding to just toss this out there, knowing I am not alone in this, I'm going to admit something personal. I have skin tags and warts.

Yeah, yeah, I know I'm not alone. Many people (most people?) have the same things, so it's not like I'm weird or anything. Not in this department, anyway. The problem is what to do about them.

I Googled and read and Googled and read and thought and Googled and... For about a week. I wanted to find a holistic solution. Thought about it, and finally decided to give it a try. Now I just have to see what happens because this is Day One of the Great Experiment.

What I found by Googling is that there are a number of different options. I'm going the apple cider vinegar route. Mostly because I have a gallon jug of ACV in the pantry - which means I only had to buy the cotton balls and first aid tape. And I think it smells better than the banana peel solution (yes, Virginia, there is a banana peel solution to skin tags).

I've just applied the first dressings on two places. I have more, but if this is going to cause irritation / swelling / soreness, I'd really like to limit the damage, so I'll start small and work up. No pain, yet, although one internet site I read mentioned that the ACV can sting. Maybe in a couple of days, after the tissue starts to break down? We'll see.

In the meantime, I have hope, because this is sure as shootin' less expensive than, and so far, anyway, less painful than the dermatology cryo process. I've done that, too, and that stings. Or it burns, if they use heat to get rid of them.

There's my big confession. Isn't that exciting? Yeah, I know. Bo-rrrring.

Okay, here's another one: I'm supposed to dust the house today, but I'm not going to. I'm going to write, instead.

See, hubby has reached the point of wanting to de-junk the house, and that's great. But if we're going to de-junk, why should I spend time moving the thousands of pieces of junk we have around so I can dust if in a few weeks or so the junk will be gone and I won't have to move it to dust? Logical, right? Thanks. I think so.

And, yes, that's an exaggeration. We don't have 'thousands' of junk pieces. It just seems like it. I've started a box, and I'm putting things into it as I go.

Like the African carved masks - the tourist junk that my in-laws brought home from a vacation. Somehow they ended up in my bathroom, which used to be MIL's bathroom before she had her stroke and had to be moved downstairs.

Two of the ugliest things I've ever seen, but there they were. Until I took them down and put them in the box. Then I put up a picture I took of Moraine Lake up in Alberta.

Much nicer.

I'm still picking away at the clutter, so I feel a bit righteous. Because I feel righteous (a tiny bit), I've decided that instead of dusting, I'm going to write and get onto NaNoWriMo. Which is confusing to me, but I'll get there in a minute - and connect with my writing buddy who's off with friends for the weekend.


I signed up for NaNoWriMo last week. Then I logged off and went about life. Then I logged on but can't do anything. Apparently because I haven't got anything posted. Which is weird. I'm supposed to upload an extract from a book I haven't started yet, which isn't supposed to get started until next month, but... It's confusing.

So, I'll start the story today and upload the first thousand words or so. And I'll upload the cover I've designed.

Except, it's now almost six hours since I wrote that last sentence. Hubby came and pulled me away, to start clearing out the clutter and de-junking the house.

I'm exhausted, and elated. Among everything I found a picture - the last picture I have of my mom and dad together, taken only about three months before he passed. I remembered it. I knew I had it. I just didn't know where, until today.

I miss them so much, and to have found this picture is... heaven because it's how I remember them, together.

So there is happiness to be found in clearing out clutter. I just spent six hours at it, and this is my reward. Along with a slightly less cluttered house. Although, truth to tell, since so much came from drawers and closets and cabinets, it's hard to see a real difference. Next pass, though, since the cabinets and closets and drawers are done.

Now, though, I'm bushed. And I am not going to get started on cooking my chile verde tonight. it's five o'clock, my feet hurt from standing and walking and standing and walking for six hours.

I hope you have a lovely day, and that some special image comes to mind.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Cheating, a Veggie Purist and a Moose in a Trench

I'm cheating but it's confirmed. I just checked and I am absolutely sure - I'm a Veggie Purist.

I'm cheating because this is Thursday afternoon, not Friday, but I just blew up my head and deserve a break. Since I'm hungry, I'm spending my break with my veggies, which is what I just checked and confirmed. Explaining so we're clear.

As for the veggies and their purity, it doesn't go for all veggies. Not salads, for instance. Salads need dressing, but for everything else except a few select items, like potatoes, I like my veggies plain, simple and pure. Just as nature intended.

At Costco, a warehouse outlet that sells a lot of things in big commercial-type packages (fifteen rolls of paper towels, full cases of bottled drinks and water, five pound bags and boxes of 'stuff') I buy bags of frozen veggies. It's a mixed bunch - broccoli, cauliflower and carrots. The other day I brought some for lunch and decided to mix the mix a bit - I added just a splash of salad dressing. I didn't like it. Today I have some more of the veggies and heated it. I'm eating it plain and it's so much better.

This strikes me a little odd because I know there are people out there who cannot eat veggies without 'stuff' all over them. Like cheese sauce or butter or something else. I guess that goes back to 'it takes all kinds' and 'variety is the spice of life'. Me? Pure as day - just the veggies with no nothing. Unless it's in chow mein or something else. Then it's got to have something.

My head blew up because someone here sent me a document they needed translated to the new form I've created for our Document Control process. WHEW!!

It came in Excel - which is not a word processor - and included pictures. I converted it to Word, brought the pictures across and captioned them, fit it into the 'box' of my template and did a 'sanity check' for clarity and readability. Three hours - which isn't bad considering the complexity - but it was three solid hours of thinking.

I've never known this process that was in the document existed, let alone how to do it (now I could). I had to figure things out as I went and make it look "pretty" - which it does. Now I'm sitting here waiting to hear back from the director and his subordinate supervisor who's the one who needs this. I just hope they like it!

And I'm cheating - a break for a few to get this started and let my head recongeal.

Okay - that's enough. Head is back together and I'm back to work. I'll pick this up tomorrow morning.

Friday morning - twenty till six and the stupid wifi isn't cooperating.

Instead of being comfortable on the sofa over there ==>, I'm standing at the kitchen island because I can't get a wireless signal over there ==> this morning. I don't get it. Why did it work yesterday morning? Why not last night or this morning? What's changed except atmospheric conditions?

Irritating and incomprehensible, but whatever. Not worth worrying about because It Is.

MIL is sleeping in our living room - so I can't go in there. That became her bedroom after her stroke three years ago, so it's off-limits except for cleaning and I don't want to wake her, so I won't sit at the dining room table. Which is why I'm standing here.

Ah! The compromises of life.

When I get to work this morning, I've got to convert my beautiful new Gantt charts to Excel. No straight data dump possible - it's too ugly to comprehend. You have to use a pre-set template form in Excel that includes a bunch of stuff I don't want or need, so I'll copy and paste, then format to get it to look as I want it to look.

It's time consuming and a nuisance, but that will be my morning. I hope, by noon, to get feedback on that other document I worked on yesterday.

Last evening, I posted the open of the book I'm re-working to one of the threads on Authonomy. I got good feedback so have some more changes to make. But it is always good to get other eyes on it as it goes, to make sure you're hitting on all cylinders.

Other than that, I'm looking forward to work and the weekend. They will take my mind off the horrible dream to which I woke. It was weird. A company with whom we do business, a plane crash and me standing in the middle of a six-lane highway next to a car parked on a dirt median with its front tire about three inches from an open trench that has cobbled sides. Up to the cobbled trench walls, it's at least a little comprehensible, but what construction crew on Earth is going to take the time and go to the expense to cobble a trench wall? The stupid thing is there to be filled back in again!

Sheesh. Anyway, I saw the plane crash and the explosion. Someone I knew, nominally, was aboard the plane, and I'm standing next to the car next to the trench on the dirt median.

The trench is okay - I kind of get that - because in my training I talk about excavating a trench and show this picture:

With those two guys standing there, in a stare down with a bull moose, I would have loved to have been there for that conversation!

I suspect the excavator in the background is working to lay back the trench wall (behind the meeses - two or more mooses = meeses in our house) so they can get the poor guy back on level ground. It would still be one heckuva start to your workday.

So back to my hemi-demi-nightmare. The company name I also recognize, although that isn't a company that touches my work world except on the periphery of my job's periphery.

Plane crash and the rest of it? Uhhh... I dunno.  Oh well. It was disturbing and not how I like waking up. Well, writing this and work and thinking of stuff will take my mind off of it.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories