Back today from three back-to-back trips. All good. But tonight I'm ready for an early bedtime. It's not the trip and traveling that's hard. It's not doing all the regular chores that makes it hard. (For example, we have 2 apples and canned goods and nothing else to eat in the house.) Also, I'm done packing and unpacking for awhile.
I'm looking forward to a few weekends close to home. I want to put some TLC into the yard among other projects.
I just posted book #24 and I should finish book #25 tonight -- which means I am exactly on track for the 50 book challenge. I thought I was behind and was plotting to hammer through a couple of graphic novels or perhaps pick up a few YA books at the library.
Book #25 is a book Bob gave to me which is a collection of essays about Star Wars. There's a 5000 word serious essay about why Boba Fett is cool. Pam Porn.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
FATHER'S DAY POST
I did a Mother's Day Post so I thought it only right to do a Father's Day post as well -- but b/c of the travel I'm running behind schedule. Besides that, Dad is in Germany and eating Fischbrotchen and who knows what other yummy things and not crying about his tardy Father's Day Blog.
Item #1 - We had bring your daughters to work day awhile back and one of the partners brought his daughters in and everybody was coming up with copying and stapling jobs for them and my heart was really with these girls because what could possibly be more mind-numbing than an office all day long with people helpfully giving you copying to do like this is fun? (Aside: when I was a girl, we didn't even have copy machines! We had those mimeograph things which is a great joke in Fast Times at Ridgemont High which I bet half the people don't get any more.) Much as I sympathized, I was dying to take them aside and tell them what I had to do when I went to my Dad's work when I was a kid.
We had to sort screws. This is not a joke. Dad had 10 pound coffee cans of screws and nails and whatever and we had to sort them. And this was not an approximate sort of job. If we mixed up the 5 and 3/10ths with the 5 and 1/2's that was wrong. Welcome to mind-numbing.
Item #2 - When we were kids Dad had a pet Black Widow that we kept in a pickle jar. I want to say its name was Jackie but maybe it was Blackie. That makes more sense. We fed it flies that we shocked with a fly swatter. That spider lived FOR YEARS in our pantry in Agoura, California.
Item #3 - and this is the pay off item. When I graduated from college we had a group to Santa Barbara and this included Auntie Ivy (Grandma's sister) and Uncle Al and I guess Grandma and the family. It's all a bit dim by this time. After the graduation we went to the Santa Barbara Biltmore for brunch. And this was a 10 star brunch -- I mean, you plotted very carefully what you were going to eat and how much and how fast because you wanted a bit of everything. They also served champagne which pretty much made the rest of the day a wash but that doesn't figure into this story.
For some reason, with all this spread of incredible food, Aunt Ivy couldn't find anything to make her happy. Also, it wasn't cheap. I think it was like $45 in 19** dollars. We had a wonderful server who knocked herself out, carrying over the champagne bottle and taking care of us and trying to make Ivy happy. Ivy wanted fruit but the 3 giant serving trays and bowls of fruit that were set out for the guests were somehow not right. It was like it was cut into the wrong shapes. So our wonderful server went back to the kitchen and got Ivy a special plate of fruit cut into different shapes which still wasn't right. (And I swear when I get old I'm going to be just like this and I can't wait.)
When the whole thing was done we were all leaving -- and here is where the great lesson from Dad comes in -- I saw my Dad find the server and very discretely give her a $20 bill and thank her for her help.
You did good Dad, thanks for everything.
I did a Mother's Day Post so I thought it only right to do a Father's Day post as well -- but b/c of the travel I'm running behind schedule. Besides that, Dad is in Germany and eating Fischbrotchen and who knows what other yummy things and not crying about his tardy Father's Day Blog.
Item #1 - We had bring your daughters to work day awhile back and one of the partners brought his daughters in and everybody was coming up with copying and stapling jobs for them and my heart was really with these girls because what could possibly be more mind-numbing than an office all day long with people helpfully giving you copying to do like this is fun? (Aside: when I was a girl, we didn't even have copy machines! We had those mimeograph things which is a great joke in Fast Times at Ridgemont High which I bet half the people don't get any more.) Much as I sympathized, I was dying to take them aside and tell them what I had to do when I went to my Dad's work when I was a kid.
We had to sort screws. This is not a joke. Dad had 10 pound coffee cans of screws and nails and whatever and we had to sort them. And this was not an approximate sort of job. If we mixed up the 5 and 3/10ths with the 5 and 1/2's that was wrong. Welcome to mind-numbing.
Item #2 - When we were kids Dad had a pet Black Widow that we kept in a pickle jar. I want to say its name was Jackie but maybe it was Blackie. That makes more sense. We fed it flies that we shocked with a fly swatter. That spider lived FOR YEARS in our pantry in Agoura, California.
Item #3 - and this is the pay off item. When I graduated from college we had a group to Santa Barbara and this included Auntie Ivy (Grandma's sister) and Uncle Al and I guess Grandma and the family. It's all a bit dim by this time. After the graduation we went to the Santa Barbara Biltmore for brunch. And this was a 10 star brunch -- I mean, you plotted very carefully what you were going to eat and how much and how fast because you wanted a bit of everything. They also served champagne which pretty much made the rest of the day a wash but that doesn't figure into this story.
For some reason, with all this spread of incredible food, Aunt Ivy couldn't find anything to make her happy. Also, it wasn't cheap. I think it was like $45 in 19** dollars. We had a wonderful server who knocked herself out, carrying over the champagne bottle and taking care of us and trying to make Ivy happy. Ivy wanted fruit but the 3 giant serving trays and bowls of fruit that were set out for the guests were somehow not right. It was like it was cut into the wrong shapes. So our wonderful server went back to the kitchen and got Ivy a special plate of fruit cut into different shapes which still wasn't right. (And I swear when I get old I'm going to be just like this and I can't wait.)
When the whole thing was done we were all leaving -- and here is where the great lesson from Dad comes in -- I saw my Dad find the server and very discretely give her a $20 bill and thank her for her help.
You did good Dad, thanks for everything.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Hi Kids:
I'm home in the middle of 3 back-to-back trips. The fun part is super fun but all the packing and unpacking and coordinating real life with being away is tangled up and a bit of a strain at the moment.
San Francisco Story #1
As overheard in the San Francisco Apple Store:
Guy Walking into Apple Store Flashing New iPod Shuffle: Hey, I just got this. How do I get music on it?
Apple Store Employee: Do you have a computer?
Guy: No.
San Francisco Story #2
Bob and I are sitting at the counter at David's (sadly, best URL I could find) eating our dinner. I'm to Bob's left. And older couple sits at the counter to our left. When the man gets up to pay he comes over and stand in between us and tells us that his kids are leftys (me) and he always tells them that if a lefty marries a righty they can eat holding hands. I tell him that we sometimes do.
San Francisco Story #3
In the Airport on the way home I use the restroom. The automatic flushing toilet flushes once when I enter the stall, once when I sit down, once when I reach for toilet paper and once when I'm actually finished. Now that's efficient.
San Francisco Story #4
We go to the Haight on bus route #7 to go to Amoeba. On the way home a woman alleges to be disabled and wants the driver to lower the step to get on the bus. The driver says it's broken and she can't do it. She tells the lady to buck up and drag herself on the bus. The lady complies, bitching and moaning the entire time. She hobbles to her seat and complains. A whole bunch of yelling goes back and forth until the rider screams, "That's enough. Leave me alone." The driver says more and she screams again, "Leave me alone." The lady gets off at the next stop. A guy moves his seat and sucks up to the driver telling her how great she is and she whines how her bus is broken and it's not her fault. (Well, yelling at the customers is.) At the next stop a lady claiming to be an advocate for the disabled gets in her two cents worth before exiting the bus. It's an eventful ride.
--
Meanwhile, I have tons of crap piled all over my room and emails bursting out of the box and a "to do" list that stretches a page an a half. My bangs need to be trimmed. I have gifts to buy. I have a Father's Day entry to get to. It's all coming. Stay tuned.
I'm home in the middle of 3 back-to-back trips. The fun part is super fun but all the packing and unpacking and coordinating real life with being away is tangled up and a bit of a strain at the moment.
San Francisco Story #1
As overheard in the San Francisco Apple Store:
Guy Walking into Apple Store Flashing New iPod Shuffle: Hey, I just got this. How do I get music on it?
Apple Store Employee: Do you have a computer?
Guy: No.
San Francisco Story #2
Bob and I are sitting at the counter at David's (sadly, best URL I could find) eating our dinner. I'm to Bob's left. And older couple sits at the counter to our left. When the man gets up to pay he comes over and stand in between us and tells us that his kids are leftys (me) and he always tells them that if a lefty marries a righty they can eat holding hands. I tell him that we sometimes do.
San Francisco Story #3
In the Airport on the way home I use the restroom. The automatic flushing toilet flushes once when I enter the stall, once when I sit down, once when I reach for toilet paper and once when I'm actually finished. Now that's efficient.
San Francisco Story #4
We go to the Haight on bus route #7 to go to Amoeba. On the way home a woman alleges to be disabled and wants the driver to lower the step to get on the bus. The driver says it's broken and she can't do it. She tells the lady to buck up and drag herself on the bus. The lady complies, bitching and moaning the entire time. She hobbles to her seat and complains. A whole bunch of yelling goes back and forth until the rider screams, "That's enough. Leave me alone." The driver says more and she screams again, "Leave me alone." The lady gets off at the next stop. A guy moves his seat and sucks up to the driver telling her how great she is and she whines how her bus is broken and it's not her fault. (Well, yelling at the customers is.) At the next stop a lady claiming to be an advocate for the disabled gets in her two cents worth before exiting the bus. It's an eventful ride.
--
Meanwhile, I have tons of crap piled all over my room and emails bursting out of the box and a "to do" list that stretches a page an a half. My bangs need to be trimmed. I have gifts to buy. I have a Father's Day entry to get to. It's all coming. Stay tuned.
Friday, June 17, 2005
Bob and I went to the Quinault Beach Resort on Tuesday night. Turns out we drove into a tsunami warning. ("You're not actually going into an asteroid field?")
We kind-of heard about it because we stopped at a gas station in Chehalis and the clerks said something about an earthquake and tsunami warning.
It never occured to me to feel worried about this. The news reports love to make everything as dramatic and frightening as they can:
"Your entire family at risk from breathing air. Tune it at 10pm and find out why and what you can do about it."
By the time we arrived any danger that might have been was already passed. Apparently most of the staff had fled for the hills leaving about a dozen fearless gamblers ready to riot in the lobby as the gambling floor was closed off.
By the next day everything was full steam ahead.
We kind-of heard about it because we stopped at a gas station in Chehalis and the clerks said something about an earthquake and tsunami warning.
It never occured to me to feel worried about this. The news reports love to make everything as dramatic and frightening as they can:
"Your entire family at risk from breathing air. Tune it at 10pm and find out why and what you can do about it."
By the time we arrived any danger that might have been was already passed. Apparently most of the staff had fled for the hills leaving about a dozen fearless gamblers ready to riot in the lobby as the gambling floor was closed off.
By the next day everything was full steam ahead.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Yesterday's FoodDay had a feature on people describing their favorite kitchen tool.
The Microplane grater is a big favorite. I love mine too, but honestly, how often do you need citrus zest? We also use ours for parmesan cheese but still, I don't use it enough to call it my favorite. Several people mentioned items I have, but hardly ever use like a silicone mat which I am going to put into more regular rotation.
My favorite kitchen tool is my silicone spatula. I use it for everything. Scraping the last of the batter from the mixing bowl, stirring the vegetables in the saute pan, finishing off the yogurt in the big carton. I have the old school plastic spatulas too, in several sizes and depending on the job, those get used a lot too.
But I love the silicone one because you can use it for hot stuff without fear of it melting.
My other favorite kitchen tool is my chef's knife but it desperately needs a trip to the sharpener. I've been meaning to do this for about 2 years now and never seem to remember to bring it with me to work. Or I do remember it (carefully wrapped in a towel and stuffed in the bottom of my bag) and then I don't have time to get to the place. Then I have to take it back home because what if I need it?
I bought a Santuko last November when Mom and Erin were coming for Thanksgiving because I figured with that many cooks, we'd better have plenty of good knives. I like it a lot too but the chef's is my favorite.
Bob drives me crazy when I find him chopping carrots with a paring knife or maybe the boning knife that came with our woodblock set of knives that we got when we got married. When I explain how much better it would be to use the chef's knife, he thinks I'm being bossy and trying to make him do it my way.
The Microplane grater is a big favorite. I love mine too, but honestly, how often do you need citrus zest? We also use ours for parmesan cheese but still, I don't use it enough to call it my favorite. Several people mentioned items I have, but hardly ever use like a silicone mat which I am going to put into more regular rotation.
My favorite kitchen tool is my silicone spatula. I use it for everything. Scraping the last of the batter from the mixing bowl, stirring the vegetables in the saute pan, finishing off the yogurt in the big carton. I have the old school plastic spatulas too, in several sizes and depending on the job, those get used a lot too.
But I love the silicone one because you can use it for hot stuff without fear of it melting.
My other favorite kitchen tool is my chef's knife but it desperately needs a trip to the sharpener. I've been meaning to do this for about 2 years now and never seem to remember to bring it with me to work. Or I do remember it (carefully wrapped in a towel and stuffed in the bottom of my bag) and then I don't have time to get to the place. Then I have to take it back home because what if I need it?
I bought a Santuko last November when Mom and Erin were coming for Thanksgiving because I figured with that many cooks, we'd better have plenty of good knives. I like it a lot too but the chef's is my favorite.
Bob drives me crazy when I find him chopping carrots with a paring knife or maybe the boning knife that came with our woodblock set of knives that we got when we got married. When I explain how much better it would be to use the chef's knife, he thinks I'm being bossy and trying to make him do it my way.
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