For the truly bored, the July 07 Garden photos are posted.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
7/14/07 - Tale of the Tiles; crappy mail
Well, here I am in the deadspot of the day. The grout is down; the tiles are scrubbed and we await only the final scrubbing today in a few hours. The outdoor portion of my day has apparently been pushed into the afternoon as the wife and eldest have gone swimming and leave me here to tend our youngest and her headcold.
Now might be a good time to review the lesson learned while doing tile:
* The instructions on boxes of tile adhesive and grout are off by about 20%. Either they assume that the user cannot accurately measure liquids or they're trying to trick you into using more product but whichever the case if you follow the instructions on the package you'll have a heck of a time spreading the stuff. Both should have the consistency of creamy peanut butter. Wet sand is right out. 5 pounds of grout took 3 hours in the entry and looked like crap. 10 pounds of grout in the bathroom took about 30 minutes and is as smooth as a baby's forehead. All for the want of an extra 100mL of water. Bah and double bah humbug to you grout manufacturer.
Today our eldest when confronted with the writing prompt task produced a paragraph in about 4 minutes. This is a vast improvement on the 3 hours it took yesterday. A heavy sigh to the meaninglessly headstrong child.
I'm really disappointed in the mail lately. I've probably never mentioned that I'm really just a little kid. I just love gettin' crap in the mail. In fact, I typically keep something on order at all times so I can anticipate it's arrival. Back in the deep, dark, gloomy past this was mostly baseball cards. There's nothing quite as exciting to an old magpie like me than a big box of crap to go through. Anyway, as of late I've been meandering my way through my own amazon wishlist picking up all those missing 'A' titles on my too-be-read list (oh and the other list). Anyway, St. Thomas Aquinas is taking frigging forever. It further seems like everything has been taking a lot longer lately. If the pace doesn't pick up I'm going to have to break down and buy some sea monkeys or x-ray glasses.
Anyway, enough ranting, time to check in on the Little Women before the second shift starts...
Now might be a good time to review the lesson learned while doing tile:
* The instructions on boxes of tile adhesive and grout are off by about 20%. Either they assume that the user cannot accurately measure liquids or they're trying to trick you into using more product but whichever the case if you follow the instructions on the package you'll have a heck of a time spreading the stuff. Both should have the consistency of creamy peanut butter. Wet sand is right out. 5 pounds of grout took 3 hours in the entry and looked like crap. 10 pounds of grout in the bathroom took about 30 minutes and is as smooth as a baby's forehead. All for the want of an extra 100mL of water. Bah and double bah humbug to you grout manufacturer.
Today our eldest when confronted with the writing prompt task produced a paragraph in about 4 minutes. This is a vast improvement on the 3 hours it took yesterday. A heavy sigh to the meaninglessly headstrong child.
I'm really disappointed in the mail lately. I've probably never mentioned that I'm really just a little kid. I just love gettin' crap in the mail. In fact, I typically keep something on order at all times so I can anticipate it's arrival. Back in the deep, dark, gloomy past this was mostly baseball cards. There's nothing quite as exciting to an old magpie like me than a big box of crap to go through. Anyway, as of late I've been meandering my way through my own amazon wishlist picking up all those missing 'A' titles on my too-be-read list (oh and the other list). Anyway, St. Thomas Aquinas is taking frigging forever. It further seems like everything has been taking a lot longer lately. If the pace doesn't pick up I'm going to have to break down and buy some sea monkeys or x-ray glasses.
Anyway, enough ranting, time to check in on the Little Women before the second shift starts...
Friday, July 13, 2007
7/13/2007 - Incredible exploding child; random household updates
Today was marked by a stunning explosion in the household. Not of a chemical kind but purely emotional. Our eldest has demonstrated immense recalcitrance when asked to write to a writing prompt in school. Since she'll be taking the ISTEP this year and required to do so for the test the wife and I have been worried that she'll just refuse to complete the test and shout, "But I can't do it!" in front of the whole class. Her standard response is to claim utter ignorance. If she has any doubt whatsoever about what she's doing she just throws up her hands and sobs. I'm not sure what genetic trait we passed down or how we've erred in her upbringing but this is EXTREMELY irritating in the most irrational manner imaginable. The child fills notebooks with stories about imaginary beasts complete with illustrations but can't provide us with a complete sentence about what a farmer does at work all day? How in God's green earth do we fix THAT?
On a lighter note I managed to do some work today (at my real job) that I enjoyed. I spent most of the day writing Crystal reports and actually having real development to do (rather than hours and hours of virtual paper shuffling) and it was amazingly gratifying. It's refreshing to remember much better I feel after having done something meaningful for a few hours a day rather than the non-technical administrative garbage that comprises the majority of my job.
The tile in the hall bath is down and sealed and tomorrow... we grout. Er, rather, I grout. On a similar home improvement note, the 4-foot hole in the yard designed to accept the largish tree to be removed from the in-laws' yard when their in-ground pool goes in is ready. Apparently if you dig down far enough (in Indiana at least) you hit a horizon of decaying corn stalks. The smell of anaerobic decomposition in the hole had me concerned for a bit that I was approaching a sewer. Apparently it was just mountains of corn from years gone by... well, and maybe some farmers septic tile long disused. Tomorrow after the grout we buy another $11 tree, get about 200 landscaping bricks to properly ring off the trees we've planted in an arduous 600-step process and lastly, if I remember and if you're VERY unlucky, I'll take the garden archival snaps for July before it's no longer July.
On a lighter note I managed to do some work today (at my real job) that I enjoyed. I spent most of the day writing Crystal reports and actually having real development to do (rather than hours and hours of virtual paper shuffling) and it was amazingly gratifying. It's refreshing to remember much better I feel after having done something meaningful for a few hours a day rather than the non-technical administrative garbage that comprises the majority of my job.
The tile in the hall bath is down and sealed and tomorrow... we grout. Er, rather, I grout. On a similar home improvement note, the 4-foot hole in the yard designed to accept the largish tree to be removed from the in-laws' yard when their in-ground pool goes in is ready. Apparently if you dig down far enough (in Indiana at least) you hit a horizon of decaying corn stalks. The smell of anaerobic decomposition in the hole had me concerned for a bit that I was approaching a sewer. Apparently it was just mountains of corn from years gone by... well, and maybe some farmers septic tile long disused. Tomorrow after the grout we buy another $11 tree, get about 200 landscaping bricks to properly ring off the trees we've planted in an arduous 600-step process and lastly, if I remember and if you're VERY unlucky, I'll take the garden archival snaps for July before it's no longer July.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
7/12/07
Ahhhh.... another day another random post.
Today was strangely productive. At work our customer's go-live date approaches like a rabid dog approaches a terrified child. Therefore it seemed only natural to try to make some progress on their website. Not, of course, that everything else was ready but sadly beyond my ability to fix. At home the wife has finally tired of having only one serviceable bathroom and given me the deadly 'finish the stupid bathroom tile' look. Another 57 steps there and our numerous household guests will be ready to piddle in the comfort of their own special room again.
The literature grind continues as usual. I was not able to bring myself to plod through any more Henry Adams today but did finish the first half of Little Women which I shall refer to hereafter as 'the entertaining half.' Now that people are dieing and getting married, etc things are sure to go downhill.
These Rosetta Stone people (RosettaStone.com) almost have me. A decent coupon would pretty much assure that I would order their crazily overpriced language larnin' software. I'm not sure WHAT in the heck it is with the 'learn a new language for no reason whatsoever' bug but it seems to be a recurring theme in my life.
It occurs to me that someone should create a blog printing service. For some reasonable fee you could have your blog printed up in book format and sent to you. I'd pay a pretty tidy sum for a hardcover edition of my life to date with a special thumb index for all my absolute FAVORITE rants.
Today was strangely productive. At work our customer's go-live date approaches like a rabid dog approaches a terrified child. Therefore it seemed only natural to try to make some progress on their website. Not, of course, that everything else was ready but sadly beyond my ability to fix. At home the wife has finally tired of having only one serviceable bathroom and given me the deadly 'finish the stupid bathroom tile' look. Another 57 steps there and our numerous household guests will be ready to piddle in the comfort of their own special room again.
The literature grind continues as usual. I was not able to bring myself to plod through any more Henry Adams today but did finish the first half of Little Women which I shall refer to hereafter as 'the entertaining half.' Now that people are dieing and getting married, etc things are sure to go downhill.
These Rosetta Stone people (RosettaStone.com) almost have me. A decent coupon would pretty much assure that I would order their crazily overpriced language larnin' software. I'm not sure WHAT in the heck it is with the 'learn a new language for no reason whatsoever' bug but it seems to be a recurring theme in my life.
It occurs to me that someone should create a blog printing service. For some reasonable fee you could have your blog printed up in book format and sent to you. I'd pay a pretty tidy sum for a hardcover edition of my life to date with a special thumb index for all my absolute FAVORITE rants.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
7/11/07b
OK, I just have to ask... who in the hell still carries around a flask?
http://aagro.blogspot.com/2007/07/flask-etiquette-for-dummies.html
http://aagro.blogspot.com/2007/07/flask-etiquette-for-dummies.html
7/11/07
Our neighbors to the east are just damned unfriendly. Now you must realize that I'm not particularly friendly either but I don't consider myself *UN*friendly. It took a full three greetings this evening to get even the merest acknowledgment from them. I did the neighborly wave. Nothing. I did the nod and smile. Nothing. I finally calmed it down to just a simple nod and got back half a nod. Heck, it could have been nothing more than an involuntary spasm. Point is, why are we so damn keen as a society to isolate ourselves. I'd very happily make acquaintances with the rather grim-looking people next door but my repeated attempts to approach them have resulted in nothing but sour milk.
I started another couple of holes today. One for the huge tree that is to come over from the in-laws yard when their pool goes in and a smaller for the happy $10 twigs I keep dragging home from the home improvement store. For some reason, there's nothing quite so satisfying as digging a hole. Sure there's the sweat and the grit; it's no easy task to dig a big hole but somehow the thought of pounding through layers of soil and clay that no human has touched in hundreds or thousands of years (if ever) has a certain romance. Not to mention the fact that a hole is one of those few things that you can create no a whim from nothing but is in fact completely immovable.
The new word to work into my vocabulary for the day is 'bijou.' Rob was amused today to learn that one of the people in his company was leaving to pursue a new job. The fact that is combined this person's primary interests in live made it a great bijou. In fact, I'm at least completely jealous but it made me try to determine what my 'bijou' job would be. Botanist? I'm not trained for such a thing. Landscaper? Doesn't pay enough. I don't know but it'd clearly have to be something that actually used both halves of my brain. I can pump out code all day but the creative part of my job takes about 30 seconds a day on average and the part that requires me to think only about 12. Clearly computer programming is the new 'blue collar' job of the 21st century. I think more when I'm laying tile in the bathroom than when I'm doing my real job. So perhaps that's the optimal job... the one that changes so much and so often that it requires constant adjustment and personal evolution. Much better than one that exercises only your patience over your intellect.
I've been thinking for some time that having everyone home for the summer (and therefore as good as in my office 24/7) is starting to drive me a bit nuts. Problem was that I couldn't quite put my finger on WHY this was the case. I have a separate office so I can work away from people when needed. It's a constant source of amusement that I can always find a child to pester on a moments notice. It's nice to have more organized lunches and with someone here to do the laundry I needn't worry about as many household chores. On the surface this should be really beneficial. Then it struck me what was missing. I need some level of solitude, a time during the day when I can walk down the hall and scream at the top of my lungs for no reason whatsoever. I need to be able to talk to myself for 40 minutes about how appallingly the Oxford Rugby team is doing this year despite the fact I know nothing of the topic. Working at home has inflicted such a level of utter solitude on me that I now find I NEED it. When my family is home they're constantly underfoot, utterly inescapable. If our toddler isn't our running around or threatening to run up the stairs then she's asleep and you have to watch every sound you make. It's quite maddening and I think my wife is ready to go back to school as well. She's falling under the spell of cabin fever as she looks for any excuse to go to the mall and see over human faces.
Hrm. Annual in-person company meeting about a month away. This is where the at-home worker begins to ask, "Keep the mohawk or let it start to grow out?"
I started another couple of holes today. One for the huge tree that is to come over from the in-laws yard when their pool goes in and a smaller for the happy $10 twigs I keep dragging home from the home improvement store. For some reason, there's nothing quite so satisfying as digging a hole. Sure there's the sweat and the grit; it's no easy task to dig a big hole but somehow the thought of pounding through layers of soil and clay that no human has touched in hundreds or thousands of years (if ever) has a certain romance. Not to mention the fact that a hole is one of those few things that you can create no a whim from nothing but is in fact completely immovable.
The new word to work into my vocabulary for the day is 'bijou.' Rob was amused today to learn that one of the people in his company was leaving to pursue a new job. The fact that is combined this person's primary interests in live made it a great bijou. In fact, I'm at least completely jealous but it made me try to determine what my 'bijou' job would be. Botanist? I'm not trained for such a thing. Landscaper? Doesn't pay enough. I don't know but it'd clearly have to be something that actually used both halves of my brain. I can pump out code all day but the creative part of my job takes about 30 seconds a day on average and the part that requires me to think only about 12. Clearly computer programming is the new 'blue collar' job of the 21st century. I think more when I'm laying tile in the bathroom than when I'm doing my real job. So perhaps that's the optimal job... the one that changes so much and so often that it requires constant adjustment and personal evolution. Much better than one that exercises only your patience over your intellect.
I've been thinking for some time that having everyone home for the summer (and therefore as good as in my office 24/7) is starting to drive me a bit nuts. Problem was that I couldn't quite put my finger on WHY this was the case. I have a separate office so I can work away from people when needed. It's a constant source of amusement that I can always find a child to pester on a moments notice. It's nice to have more organized lunches and with someone here to do the laundry I needn't worry about as many household chores. On the surface this should be really beneficial. Then it struck me what was missing. I need some level of solitude, a time during the day when I can walk down the hall and scream at the top of my lungs for no reason whatsoever. I need to be able to talk to myself for 40 minutes about how appallingly the Oxford Rugby team is doing this year despite the fact I know nothing of the topic. Working at home has inflicted such a level of utter solitude on me that I now find I NEED it. When my family is home they're constantly underfoot, utterly inescapable. If our toddler isn't our running around or threatening to run up the stairs then she's asleep and you have to watch every sound you make. It's quite maddening and I think my wife is ready to go back to school as well. She's falling under the spell of cabin fever as she looks for any excuse to go to the mall and see over human faces.
Hrm. Annual in-person company meeting about a month away. This is where the at-home worker begins to ask, "Keep the mohawk or let it start to grow out?"
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
7/10/07
Today, like most days was miraculously uneventful. Well, not exactly miraculously perhaps.
I discovered today to my surprise that one of my work colleagues has horticultural aspirations. Since this falls in line with my current urge to propagate things from my garden I told him I would provide the odd infant sprout or two.
In place of my lunch I put in the second $10 tree in the back yard only to have my wife refer to them as hopelessly small. Clearly she's not overly endowed with patience. For $10 I'll happily accept quite a bit of 'twigginess' in my trees thank you very much.
The entry tile finally approaches completion. It has been sealed and partially trimmed and, in my opinion at least, looks quite tidy. The wife says simply that it looks 'fake'. My offers to rip it all up and start over are still being rejected.
My real job has become even more ponderous than usual. I find my mind wandering throughout ever-growing days punctuated only by heavy sighs like the smoke that rises from a slowly burning human soul. I can't help but get the impression that my boss is himself steaming under the usually calm facade and is ready to boil over any minute. I'll brace myself for an explosion in my direction.
On a more positive note, Little Women continues to be a joy. I'm thinking of publishing a family newspaper as the March's do but I'm uncertain the wife would participate.
Further on the topic of wives, I seem to be getting along with mine astonishingly well lately. I can't say why exactly but it seems indisputably to be the truth. I can imagine several factors that might contribute to this. Is she comparing me to her New York friend's husband in some favorable way? Is she finally just adjusting to being home for the summer? Perhaps her high school friends stories about her deadbeat ex-husband are finding their mark? Or is it is just that she's happy to be seeing her plans for the house come together? Hard to say but I've surely analyzed it enough now that any excessive connubial joy has been completely jinxed into oblivion.
I discovered today to my surprise that one of my work colleagues has horticultural aspirations. Since this falls in line with my current urge to propagate things from my garden I told him I would provide the odd infant sprout or two.
In place of my lunch I put in the second $10 tree in the back yard only to have my wife refer to them as hopelessly small. Clearly she's not overly endowed with patience. For $10 I'll happily accept quite a bit of 'twigginess' in my trees thank you very much.
The entry tile finally approaches completion. It has been sealed and partially trimmed and, in my opinion at least, looks quite tidy. The wife says simply that it looks 'fake'. My offers to rip it all up and start over are still being rejected.
My real job has become even more ponderous than usual. I find my mind wandering throughout ever-growing days punctuated only by heavy sighs like the smoke that rises from a slowly burning human soul. I can't help but get the impression that my boss is himself steaming under the usually calm facade and is ready to boil over any minute. I'll brace myself for an explosion in my direction.
On a more positive note, Little Women continues to be a joy. I'm thinking of publishing a family newspaper as the March's do but I'm uncertain the wife would participate.
Further on the topic of wives, I seem to be getting along with mine astonishingly well lately. I can't say why exactly but it seems indisputably to be the truth. I can imagine several factors that might contribute to this. Is she comparing me to her New York friend's husband in some favorable way? Is she finally just adjusting to being home for the summer? Perhaps her high school friends stories about her deadbeat ex-husband are finding their mark? Or is it is just that she's happy to be seeing her plans for the house come together? Hard to say but I've surely analyzed it enough now that any excessive connubial joy has been completely jinxed into oblivion.
Monday, July 09, 2007
7/9/2007
After months of neglect, it occurs to me that it may be beneficial to just randomly write some crap. Though I'll admit that it may be meaningless to any reader but the writer himself that matters little.
I was reminded today of the funniest thing I've ever said. Well, the funniest thing I'm currently aware of having said. Sadly, out of its proper context it's not really funny at all. "That elephant is stealing those cigarettes!" See. Completely not funny.
Today my brother-in-law after long neglecting his health has been admitted to the hospital. It remains to be seen where this long story will lead.
I'm currently on a plod-and-enjoy reading schedule. My plod is "The Education of Henry Adams". The assumed audience for this little tome knows a hell of a lot more about 19th century history than I do so it makes for a lot of question marks in my mind. At 10 pages a day, I can almost stay awake. The enjoy is a re-read of 'Little Women'. I'm trying to defeat the 'A's on my list so Alcott has come up again since it's been 6 years since I read this last. I have to say this is a devilishly enjoyable book despite the fact that I'm the wrong gender to fully appreciate it. Or, perhaps it's enjoyable simply as a counterpoint to the other things I've been reading lately. At any rate, I think I'll have to work the phrase "She's a real Mrs. March" into my speech patterns. Not, of course, that anybody will know what the hell I mean.
In the interest of expanding my horizons a bit I've subscribed to a few Magazines. For a weekly I subscribed to 'The New Yorker'. It's content seems promising and the amazon.com review that said, "If you want to be a snob, this magazine is a must-have" made this a sure thing. If anyone's a snob it's me. For a monthly I went with 'Harpers' and for a Quarterly 'The Strand'. On a similar streak I picked up a copy of 'The American Scholar' at Borders for investigative purposes. I'll admit that it covers a crazily eclectic range of topics but in at least a couple articles it makes my Bullshit Meter buzz crazily. Sadly it's hard to know how seriously to take these people.
Oh, before I forget to mention it at all, we forgave the Mike's Car Wash people. Long story short, my wife went through the car wash and heard a horrendous POP. Turns out, the blowers had dented the roof of the car. After much hassle Mike's agreed to pay for the repairs but when we got the estimates it amounted to over $1000 to replace the roof and windshield for a barely discernible dent. That seemed an extravagant amount to fix a barely discernible dent so we told Mike's to forget the whole thing and instead just give us a written guarantee that they'd follow through with their original offer to pay the $1000 if we went through again and something really awful happened. Needless to say, they were shocked into bewilderment but agreed to pay nothing and provide the paperwork. Anyway, one hopes that turns our karma wheel in a favorable direction.
Finally, with any luck the slate in the entryway should be done. I'll take a picture tomorrow for fun. Also need to take my garden photos for July.
I was reminded today of the funniest thing I've ever said. Well, the funniest thing I'm currently aware of having said. Sadly, out of its proper context it's not really funny at all. "That elephant is stealing those cigarettes!" See. Completely not funny.
Today my brother-in-law after long neglecting his health has been admitted to the hospital. It remains to be seen where this long story will lead.
I'm currently on a plod-and-enjoy reading schedule. My plod is "The Education of Henry Adams". The assumed audience for this little tome knows a hell of a lot more about 19th century history than I do so it makes for a lot of question marks in my mind. At 10 pages a day, I can almost stay awake. The enjoy is a re-read of 'Little Women'. I'm trying to defeat the 'A's on my list so Alcott has come up again since it's been 6 years since I read this last. I have to say this is a devilishly enjoyable book despite the fact that I'm the wrong gender to fully appreciate it. Or, perhaps it's enjoyable simply as a counterpoint to the other things I've been reading lately. At any rate, I think I'll have to work the phrase "She's a real Mrs. March" into my speech patterns. Not, of course, that anybody will know what the hell I mean.
In the interest of expanding my horizons a bit I've subscribed to a few Magazines. For a weekly I subscribed to 'The New Yorker'. It's content seems promising and the amazon.com review that said, "If you want to be a snob, this magazine is a must-have" made this a sure thing. If anyone's a snob it's me. For a monthly I went with 'Harpers' and for a Quarterly 'The Strand'. On a similar streak I picked up a copy of 'The American Scholar' at Borders for investigative purposes. I'll admit that it covers a crazily eclectic range of topics but in at least a couple articles it makes my Bullshit Meter buzz crazily. Sadly it's hard to know how seriously to take these people.
Oh, before I forget to mention it at all, we forgave the Mike's Car Wash people. Long story short, my wife went through the car wash and heard a horrendous POP. Turns out, the blowers had dented the roof of the car. After much hassle Mike's agreed to pay for the repairs but when we got the estimates it amounted to over $1000 to replace the roof and windshield for a barely discernible dent. That seemed an extravagant amount to fix a barely discernible dent so we told Mike's to forget the whole thing and instead just give us a written guarantee that they'd follow through with their original offer to pay the $1000 if we went through again and something really awful happened. Needless to say, they were shocked into bewilderment but agreed to pay nothing and provide the paperwork. Anyway, one hopes that turns our karma wheel in a favorable direction.
Finally, with any luck the slate in the entryway should be done. I'll take a picture tomorrow for fun. Also need to take my garden photos for July.
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