Everything’s going my way

(oh) What a beautiful day.  This morning was perfect, in every way, and when I went for a run, I was so happy to be out doing just what I was doing and seeing just what I was seeing that I nearly cried.  The sky was this perfect September blue, the trees were still green, the morning light was clear and the air was fresh, and even though I’m sore and tired now, that feeling this morning makes it okay.  Better than okay.

That paragraph makes me sound ecstatically happy.  I’m too tired to be ecstatically happy.  I’m worn out happy.  With a dehydration (I think) headache.  John and I went to Waterford this afternoon for the Waterford Fair.  Happens every year, but we keep forgetting about it, so this is the first year we’ve gone.  They’ve got tours of historic homes, LOTS of exhibits and vendors selling all kinds of crafts, live music, and lots of food.  A couple of residents are selling their homes, so they took advantage of the crowds to hold open houses.  NICE houses.  And they’ve come down in price; both of the houses John and I looked at were only $695,000.

Tangent:

John Scalzi is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors, both for his novels and his blog.  Check out his latest post.  The idea came from the two previous posts.

Back to the fair.  But really only for pictures (all taken by John, used with permission 🙂 ).

John and I decided this was a re-enactment of that time a squad of soldiers got lost and wandered down Main Street in Waterford during the Civil War.

Look! Baby lambs! According to the sign on the pen, they're only two days old. The white one is a boy and the black one is a girl. Super cute.

Anyway, the fair was fun, but Waterford has some major hills (okay, one major hill), and we got a little too much sun, and we’re both very tired.  Tomorrow will probably be more restful.

No, I’m not keeping this cat

I can’t have a cat.  Riley would spend every minute bouncing off the ceiling.  Every minute he’s not trying to eat the poor thing.  He’s high-strung as it is.  I got further proof of that this morning when I brought a cat inside.  Briefly.  After I threw him and Roxy out on the deck.

Let me back up.

I went out this morning for a jog, as usual.  (Kind of as usual.  You know, every other day usual.  The way I left the house was as usual for when I go for a jog.  Oh, hell.  Leave me alone.)  About a half mile from the house, on the opposite side of a busy-for-my-town street from my neighborhood, I saw a cat narrowly avoid being hit by a car.  It was okay, hanging out on the sidewalk when I got there, not even a little bit afraid of me.  He’s a pretty little cat, not a kitten, not full-grown.  I guessed 6-7 months old (the vet said maybe 8 months, but not more).  No collar, no tags, not neutered, but he’s clean (and definitely a he) and seems well-fed.  Almost definitely not a stray.  Like 98% not a stray.  He was right behind a house in this other neighborhood, so I walked to their front door to see if he belonged to them.  He followed me.  Right by my ankles.  I knocked (it wasn’t even 7 yet – a little early for a doorbell), but no one answered.  I saw people at a house on the next block, so I headed that way.  He followed me.  They didn’t recognize him.  I tried another house.  Same thing.  I went back to the first house, closest to where I found him, and since there was a light on now, I rang the doorbell.  A guy and his little girl answered the door.  Not their cat.

Three houses with no luck, and the cat’s still following me, so I picked him up and headed home.  Easier said than done.  He let me carry him for a couple of minutes and then he struggled a little.  I calmed him enough to get by another house or so, and then he twisted again.  I put him down, thinking maybe he’d keep following me.  Nope.  He headed for a house like maybe he lived there, so I rang the doorbell.  No answer.  And then he went to another house like he lived there.  So, yeah, this little kitty doesn’t know where home is.  Scooped him up and continued home.  Repeat twice more, without the doorbell-ringing.

I finally got back to the house, but John was out running and I needed to get in the door without getting my face and arms clawed off when the cat tried to escape from the dogs.  I got the teenager across the street to hold him while I shoved the dogs into the backyard (more difficult than usual – Riley’s nose was glued to my cat-hair-covered shirt).  Then I locked the adorable little kitty whose patience was wearing thin in the hall bathroom.  He immediately starting yowling.  I don’t blame him.  I called a couple of the local vets.  All I was looking for was a place to leave this cat for a day or two while I post flyers (fliers?  Looks like fleers.) and look for the owner, and the shelter is kinda far in the wrong direction (wrong if I’m trying to get to work close to on time).  The first vet I called won’t hold a pet unless they know who the owner is.  Not helpful.  The second one was sympathetic, though, totally understood what I need, and was willing to take the cutie-pie, at least for a day or so.  In the meantime, Riley tried to throw himself through the sliding glass door to get at the CAT!  THERE’S A CAT IN THERE!  LET ME AT IT!

John came home about then, so I explained why awful screaming noises were occasionally coming from the hall bathroom (not hurt noises, just hilarious lonely noises) and why Riley (who was no longer trying to hulk his way into the house) was stomping his foot (he really does that) and whining urgently.  John got his camera, and I opened the door to find Stan (he looks like an Oliver, but we know a cat named Oliver, so he’s Stan and no, we’re not keeping him) on the bathroom sink.  John took some pictures (see below) for the flyers I’ll make later today, and I threw him (Stan, not John) in the car for the drive to the nice vet.

He was fine in the car (we no longer have a pet carrier of any kind, and we never had one small enough for a cat), and he was happy to go with the vet tech.  I have their number, they have my number, and when they can’t keep him any longer, I’ll move him on to the shelter.  If I haven’t found the owner by then.  After work, I’ll stop at FedEx Office (I think that’s what they call themselves now, not FedEx Kinko’s anymore), make a bunch of flyers, and shove them in mailboxes in my neighborhood and the neighborhood across that street.  I’ve already posted in the community forums, so hopefully I’ll get some response.

I got a phone call from John a little bit ago.  On his way out of the neighborhood this morning, when he left for work, he got stuck behind a car going REALLY SLOWLY down the street.  He was super annoyed at the time, but it occurred to him, as he sat in traffic, that it might have been the cat’s owners driving slowly by.  That’s probably how I’d go looking for my missing cat.  We’ll keep an eye out for that car, too.

Anyway, if I don’t hear from the owner in a couple of days, there’ll be a cute cat on the market.  Free to a good home.  Want one?

It’s a happy coincidence that I’m rescuing a cat on Wombat’s Random Act Wednesday, but there you have it.  Also, Spokeit‘s post from yesterday ran through my mind all morning.  Gotta love our online community.

Which came first, the stupid or the wall I ran into?

I ran into a window today.  Smacked my forehead HARD.  Seriously, I have a bruise.  I had lunch at a restaurant with my supervisor today, and we left through the revolving door.  I put my sunglasses on while revolving (“while in the middle of the revolution” sounds more militant that what was happening) and tried to exit the door before I reached the opening.  The glass wasn’t THAT clean.  I’m just THAT stupid.

The knock on my head apparently killed some brain cells, too, ’cause words, thoughts, ideas…I don’t have them tonight.  I’m stealing an idea from MommyByDay and just posting a picture.  Or two.

These were the greatest jeans ever.  Unfortunately, this picture is eight years old, so even if I could remember the brand and style, I’m sure they don’t make them anymore.  Too bad.

Here’s Mom playing Marine:

I wouldn’t say no to this view from my window.

Or this one.

Well, that’s enough.  Gotta give Roxy her medicine and go to bed.  Off to the busy life I lead…

The Cliff Walk or How I Learned to Always Provide for Return Transportation

At least we were wearing good walking shoes.

John and I were out the door at 6:30 Saturday morning ’cause the night before (after we got mildly sunburned from walking around all day), I had a brilliant idea.  I wanted to do the whole cliff walk and then walk back along Bellevue (about 3.5 miles each way), but neither of us wanted to do it in the sun or the heat, so why not get up before the sunshine gets so intense?  Smart, right?  Sure.  It was early, but we managed.  The first part was great: gentle sunlight, not many people out, temperature in the 60s, paved path.

The start of the Cliff Walk

There was a bird doing a Batman impression right at the beginning.  Looked kind of freaky.  Was he warning us of something?  Maybe the trail was out.  Or a storm was coming!  Or maybe we should have been on the lookout for an angry mob of birds who think they’re Batman.  Hard to say.  Maybe he was just drying his wings after his dawn swim.

Maybe we stumbled on the super secret "Welcoming the Day" ritual of this particular type of bird.

We continued on to the Forty Steps and took a few pictures of the rocky coastline…

Forty Steps from a distance. Makes you wonder why they were put there. It's cool and everything, but did they ever serve a purpose? They used to be a gathering place for the servants and workers from the mansions, but that doesn't explain why there are steps there in the first place.

Close-up. Duh.

Shortly after that, the freaky bird came back with more warnings.

If the bird really wanted to warn us, it should have learned English. Would that have been so hard? We certainly didn't get the message.

Then the paved path went away.  Still not bad, packed dirt and the occasional line of large flat rocks.  Then there were the parts where there was no path.  Just rocks.  And not flat ones, either.

Inside the fence was private property. We had to become part mountain goat to finish the cliff walk, and I don't even think we were halfway at this point.

I didn’t take any more pictures after that; I needed both hands.  John took a whole series of the place we think is Hammersmith Farm (where Jackie O grew up), but we don’t have any more of the walk itself.

Probably (possibly, anyway) Hammersmith Farm

Not too long after that (and after a scramble across more rocks that turned out not be necessary – we missed the path), we found ourselves back on level ground, where Ocean Drive starts and Bellevue ends.  We were 3.5 miles from where we started with no alternative but to walk back.  At least it was shady.  And we could see the front side of some of the mansions.  I didn’t take any mansion pictures, but I can’t resist topiary.

Camels on a desert safari across a perfectly maintained, beautifully green lawn.

Our early morning adventure ended after more than three hours and over seven miles with quick showers and then breakfast at The Franklin Spa on Spring Street.  (By the time we cleaned up, we had missed breakfast at the inn.)  The Franklin Spa does breakfast really well.  I recommend it if you’re ever in Newport.  In fact, I recommend every restaurant we went to and every park, walk, or other activity we did.

On Friday, when we were in between appointments to see retail space, we joined the crowd on Ocean Drive to see the start of the Newport Bermuda Race.  John took some great pictures and I took some so-so ones.

Looking all professional. (Don't burst my bubble if that's not what professional photographers look like.)

One of mine. Hazy, not that interesting. But still - sailboats! Racing! And a helicopter!

I really like the color in this one of John's. And the dog is cute.

John plays with depth of field and proves that I was actually there (blurry, but there).

Don't know who these people are, but I love this picture. How does he do it?

More sailboats, courtesy of John.

And that’s enough.

I’m in the cafe (I’ve typed “face” instead of “cafe” three times now) of a Borders at Providence Place Mall.  (Really nice mall, by the wall.)  John’s flight left almost an hour ago, and mine (for Duluth) doesn’t leave for another three hours, so rather than return the rental car and sit around in the airport, I figured I’d find a place with free wi-fi (not free at the airport) and hang out for a while.  Doing this.

Now I’m hungry and I need to call Dad (Happy Father’s Day, Dad!), so I’m gonna pack up my laptop.  It’ll be midnight or later before I make it to my hotel in Duluth, so this’ll be it for today.  Actually, I’ll be in Chicago for a couple or three hours, so if they have free wi-fi, I may be online again.  I’m sure you’ll manage either way.  🙂

I went to Duke

No, that doesn’t have the same ring to it.  Besides, it’d be more accurate to say I drove around Duke and went to the Sarah P. Duke Gardens.  Which were gorgeous.  And huge.  I think I’d need three full days, with nothing else going on, to get through the whole place.  And a map.  I got lost in one section and still didn’t manage to see that whole part.  Some of it is landscaped and manicured and tidily beautiful.  Some of it (the part I got lost in) looks more like wilderness, like you’re out hiking on a trail far from anywhere, and not mere yards away from a main road crossing Duke’s campus.  Everything is labeled, and there are areas with signs that talk about endangered plant life.  Very educational.  I’d come back here (to Durham) just to explore the gardens a little more.  I guess I could have done that this evening, but I’m leaving ridiculously early tomorrow morning, and I feel better knowing I’m mostly packed already.  I need to leave the hotel around 4:30 tomorrow morning, maybe a little earlier, so I think staying in tonight was a good call to make.

Pictures?  Okay.

While I was lost (but before I knew I was lost), I went over that bridge, down some stone steps, and then nearly ran into a tree. But I got a nice picture out of it.

These steps. I didn't take a picture of the tree I almost ran into.

How awesome is that? There were benches everywhere, in all sorts of wonderful nooks and crannies, and if I lived anywhere near here, I'd spend lots of lazy afternoons reading in the shade.

I half-expected to see swans glide across this pond.

This little cottage (not accurate, but sounds nicer than shelter) overlooks the pond.

Seriously?  I want this place in my backyard.  Then there was the manicured part. With paths…

…and families.

Bridges…

…and a bride.

And flowers…

Lots of flowers.  And I didn’t even see a third of the place.

I’m getting a lot of mileage out of Sunday

Not a real statue.

See?

You may not know this about me, but I have a sign on my forehead that says “Pick me!  I’ll play along!”  I love street performers.  I’ll always stop to watch.  And 9 times out of 10, I get picked out of the crowd to participate in some way.  (Or four times out of the five I can remember off the top of my head, if you want to get specific.  The fifth time I can think of it was Sandwich Stealer who was chosen)  I love it.  This past Sunday, as I was leaving the aquarium to go to Harvard (and before I couldn’t find the State Street T station), I wandered around Quincy Market/Fanueil Hall and stopped to watch a street performer.  Of course.  Did I get picked out of the crowd?  Yes.  Do I have proof?  Yes!  Because I asked some nice lady to take pictures.  Are they any good?  No.  But here’s one anyway.

I handed those flowers up to him and then did weird things with my hand before catching that pillow and throwing it back to him. Fascinating, right?

I shouldn’t go to bookstores when I’m away from home.  Unless I’m out of reading material, of course.  And if I’m driving, I think it’s okay.  So really, it’s just when I’m flying that I shouldn’t do it.  Boston has lots of bookstores, lots of used bookstores, and lots of good bookstores.  I’ve been in four of them.  And one of them was on a sidewalk near Harvard.  See?

I found four books there, $2 each.  Then I went to Harvard Book Store.  New books upstairs, used downstairs, and bought a few more.  THEN I went to one near where I’m working and bought three more Lawrence Block mysteries (I’m in the middle of one of them now).  And I have to fit them all into the two bags I’m already checking to get them home.  No more!  I’ll refrain from entering any more bookstores as long as I’m here.

More from Sunday

Some other things that happened on my one day off in Boston:

  1. I took the T from my hotel to the stop nearest the aquarium (which also happens to be the stop I’m using to get to work all week) so I could a) check it out for work so there wouldn’t be any surprises Monday morning, and b) get there faster.  The aquarium stop is the State Street stop, and at the stop right before it, this young guy, reeking of alcohol, got on and sat down next to me, ranting about how the cops should just leave him alone, you know?  Why are they hassling him?  I didn’t mention that it might have something to do with him being stinking drunk before 10am on a Sunday morning.  At least he wasn’t a mean drunk.  I could afford to be nice about it; I was getting off the train in about 30 seconds.
  2. I got off the T at State Street, grabbed a bagel from Dunkin Donuts, and ate my breakfast in front of a fountain between Quincy Market/Faneuil Hall and the wharf area.  It was one of those fountains that kids like to play in (I know, that’s all of them, give me a minute), the ones with water shooting up from holes in the ground at unexpected times, with no curb or lip to keep people out.

    Every picture of this fountain turned out like this. They're all shots of water splashing around and they kinda miss the point. Sorry.

    These two had the same morning I had: breakfast while watching the fountain and then the aquarium. I wonder if they followed me to Harvard?


  3. After the aquarium, I headed back to the State Street T stop so I could go to Harvard, but I couldn’t find it (the T stop, not Harvard).  I remembered leaving the station and being on State Street, but I didn’t look behind me that morning.  I circled the Old State House once, and headed back down the street about a block, scanning both sides for the orange and blue stripes indicating the station, and didn’t see anything.  I walked up to a street vendor outside the Old State House, finally ready to look (more) like a tourist and ask for help.  I was just about to open my mouth when I looked over his shoulder and saw the station.  IN the Old State House.  (Under it, technically.)  With entrances on both sides, even, so I walked right by it (TWICE) when I circled the building.  I’m an idiot.  Blind, too.
  4. So I managed to get myself to Harvard (good thing the stop opens right across the street from it, ’cause I didn’t have a map) around 2 or 2:30, and from the looks of things, graduation was that morning.  As in, just ended an hour or two before.  Hahvahd Yahd was still blanketed with folding chairs, and there were crews starting to break down all the tents.  And hey, it really is covered in ivy!

    Ivy League. Who knew?

  5. I hadn’t had lunch yet, so while I wandered around the outskirts of the university, I was keeping my eyes open for something local, maybe off the beaten path, ideally not crowded, and I found it in Arrow Street Crepes.  Check out that menu.  I had the BEST lunch.  I ordered the Earth Day crepe: roasted mushrooms, spinach, melted mozzarella, garlic butter, and parmesan, sauteed, melted together, and wrapped in a crepe.  It was the most perfect thing I have ever tasted.  (That didn’t include chocolate and strawberries.  And they do that in a crepe, too!)  SO so good, and we HAVE to do that at home.  The restaurant is a tiny little place on the first floor (up a couple of steps) of what used to be a house.  Basically just a kitchen and a sunroom with room for maybe 5 small tables.  Super cute and super good.
  6. Some more fish pictures for you.

    A depressed-looking lionfish. I heard a kid trying to identify it for his friend: "That's a catfish. No, a tiger fish." Close, but not quite. Maybe that's why the lionfish is sad.

    What's the name of the other fish in the tank with Nemo? Gill? You know, the one with Willem Dafoe's voice (unless it's Denis Leary...). Anyway, I think this is the fish.

    It's looking at me....

    Look, it's Dory! Honestly, I must have been looking at the Finding Nemo tank.

    Scariest damn thing I've ever seen. No idea what it is (some kind of eel maybe?), but it poked its head out and kept opening and closing its mouth. Creepy.

    Up close and personal. Cliche? Yes. Evil with dead eyes? Yes. Too close for me? Yes.

    This one's for you, Dad. Herring!

    And this one reminded me of Roxy. 🙂

    More pictures (not as many fish, I promise) and a few more bits about Sunday tomorrow.

I went to Harvard

You know, today.  🙂  But doesn’t that sound cool?  Here is how I spent the rest of my day off in Boston.  With pictures!  ‘Cause I remembered my camera!  And then I used it!  (A crucial second step that I often forget.)  I just reviewed every picture I took today (215, thank you very much), deleted the blurry ones, and there is no way in hell I’m posting them all here, even assuming any of you wanted to see them.  I’ll show you a smattering.  (Good word.)

First, after my run, I went to the aquarium (for several hours) and saw ALL of the fishes, the penguins, the sharks, the jellyfish, and an IMAX movie that taught me way more than I wanted to know about the mating habits of cuttlefish, which, despite how they look, are not squids.

Cuttlefish, not squid. In Atlanta, I heard a woman tell her kid, "They're called cuttlefish 'cause they like to cuddle." The kid was grossed out by the idea.

My penguin pictures aren’t so great, but I did get a good one of a clownfish.  EVERYone recognizes Nemo now.  In every language.  I kept hearing, “Blah blah foreign language, maybe French, then some Swedish or Dutch or something NEMO!”  So here’s Nemo:

I’ve got lots more, and lots of stuff about today, but I need to get ready for tomorrow and come back to this.  I’ll leave you with my attempts at self-portraits from throughout the day.  Clearly, I need to practice this.

1st attempt. Lesson: My sunglasses are reflective. Take them off first. But at least I got the aquarium in the background and my whole head in the frame.

2nd attempt. Lesson: Put something interesting behind me. I was at the sea lion exhibit. Why are they not in the picture? I'm not even facing the right way to include them.

3rd attempt. Lesson: Timing. That's the end of a sting ray behind me. Could have been the whole thing. No idea why the picture is so grainy.

Attempt #4. Lesson: Don't hold the camera above my head and tilt down. That's quite the lovely picture of the ground you have there. Also, again with the reflective sunglasses.

5th attempt. (You'd think I'd have given up by now.) Got the harbor this time, but it kinda looks like I'm stalking that couple at the table. Lesson: Don't take pictures of other people surreptitiously if I meant to take one of myself. (Only do that when I'm going to make fun of them.) Also, please please please get my whole head in the frame.

6th try. Not massively improved. At least my head is in the picture. I'm at Harvard, not that you can tell by any landmarks.

Last try, back in the hotel room. I can barely manage, after four tries, to look at the camera when I'm in front of a mirror. How does Dooce manage this? I tried putting the camera to one side or lower down so it wouldn't be visible, but I couldn't manage that AND get my eyes pointing in the right direction at the same time. HARD!

Who needs self portraits, anyway?

I have a poisonous thumb

After I mentioned possibly starting an herb garden, Mom sent me a couple of links to cool and/or hilarious pots I could use to grow these as-yet-hypothetical herbs.

I think these pots can be found here, but they don’t look exactly right.  The two-tiered thing is very elegant, classic, and possibly the direction I should go in.  On the other hand, these crack me up:

Found here.

The problem (only temporary) with starting an herb garden now (as in this weekend) is that I will hardly be home to take care of the plants over the next two months.  And I don’t know how much cooking John will be doing while I’m gone, with or without fresh herbs.  I suppose I could ask him.  🙂  In fact, I definitely should ’cause I will need his help.  I’m not very good at keeping plants alive.  People?  Sure.  Pets?  No problem!  Plants?  Enter at your own risk.

The A/C is still alive

We turned the A/C off while we were away ’cause it was making some not-good rattling noises Friday afternoon.  And then we had 80-degree weather all weekend, so we came home to a stuffy house.  Turned the A/C back on, and voila! (or “wa-la!”, as Mindy used to say), cold air!  We’ve been home for almost two hours, and so far, no rattling.  Maybe it fixed itself while we were gone.

I’ve got a couple of random pictures of the UPitt campus from Saturday’s graduation ceremony.  Saturday was a beautiful day, all warm and sunny.  We woke up to pouring rain this morning, and after dropping Emily, Tom, and Molly at the building for the big university commencement, John and I hit the road for home.  It’s an easy four-hour drive (easier on a Sunday afternoon, in daylight, when we’ve only been up for four hours, not fourteen), and we stopped at Wegman’s on the way home so I wouldn’t have to go back out for groceries.  We ate lunch around 2:30, so we’re having tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella for dinner.  Light, fresh, easy.

Emily in her cute wrap dress and new pearls. Oh yeah, there's a sign behind her. We'd hate to forget where we were...

Emily in her gown and hood, while we tried to figure out how she was supposed to wear the damn thing.

The diplodocus (Elmer) outside the Carnegie Music Hall, our meetup spot after graduation.

The Cathedral of Learning (real name of the building)

Some church through the trees. Pretty.

I liked Pittsburgh.  We saw some really nice neighborhoods, some cute shopping districts, and I’m sure there are other places around the city we would enjoy hanging out in.  I’m not sure when the next opportunity will arise, though, since Emily will be moving away this summer to start her new job in New Hampshire?  Philadelphia?  Probably not North Carolina, but she’s got interested parties in all three places.  Good for her.

Better late than never

One week ago today, John and I got up ridiculously early (for a Sunday morning) (no, 5:20 is always ridiculously early) in order to get to DC (via metro) so he could run in the Cherry Blossom Ten Mile Run.  His training had completely derailed, since we had three feet of snow clogging all the paths and streets, and then when it finally melted, he got sick, he was working late, he had schoolwork – everything came together to make it hard for him to be ready.  He ran the Army Ten-Miler about three and a half years ago, but he hadn’t hit that distance since then.  And since he didn’t feel prepared, he was half-convinced the sweeper bus was going to pick up and take him out the race.  He had to keep up a 14-minute mile pace to avoid being picked up.  He knew (and I definitely knew) he’d do better than that, but that didn’t stop him from being nervous.

We go to the metro at Dunn Loring and got on the train.  Everyone who got on that train, at every stop, was a runner.  (They’re the only ones crazy enough to be going to DC that early.)  By the time we got into the district, the train was packed, and we all got off at the Smithsonian stop.  I wish I’d had my camera out because I looked back over my shoulder as we rode the escalator up and saw that the platform next to the train was one solid mass of people.  It looked really cool, but since I was part of that mass, I couldn’t get into my bag.  (I was playing sherpa, so I had the backpack to hold all sweatshirts, towels, water, etc.)

We followed the crowd from the metro to the grounds around the Washington Monument.  The race started in waves, so they didn’t expect all 15,000 people to be at the starting line at once.  The first wave was scheduled to go at 7:40, with the last wave at 8:00.  John was in the red wave, which I think was the second one.  All John had to do was pin on his number and go.  Of course, we’d just commuted in for more than an hour, so John (and every other runner) needed to find a port-a-potty.  Fortunately, there were tons of them.  Unfortunately, probably 7500 other runners had the same urge.  We joined one of the REALLY long lines and started to worry.  It didn’t look like it’d be possible for him to make it to the front of the line before the last wave started.  (It didn’t matter which wave he joined, so missing his wave wasn’t part of the worry.)

We waited in line for a while, and then he sent me off to find any alternatives.  I ran across 14th Street (near the starting line) and found another row of port-a-potties with NO LINES.  I raced back to John, waved him out of his line, and sent him running in that direction.  Feeling much better, he found me again as the next to last wave was starting, and we got him in the crowd.  And it was a crowd.  SO many people.  They were sent off, but they were packed in so tightly that they all walked for another few minutes.  So I walked along with them, outside the railing.

The crowd of runners (only one wave, I think)

John in that crowd. The race has started, but nobody's running yet.

There they go.

I found a great spot along the rail right by the finish line (I was already there when  I look that last picture), so, along with some other very enthusiastic spectators, I shouted myself hoarse cheering on the finishers.  Long before John came in, Erik and Margaret joined me at the finish line, bringing much-needed caffeine.  We cheered John across the line, and then headed for our meetup point.  Here’s Erik, convinced he can spot John in the sea of people:

And here’s John, triumphant and sweaty.  He finished almost four minutes faster than his last 10-miler time.

From there, we hopped the metro out to Ballston to have a yummy brunch with Erik and Margaret at Whitlow’s, and then we went home, where both of us collapsed of exhaustion, even though only one of us deserved the rest.  🙂  Go John!

Look what we did!

By we, of course, I mean mostly John.  After mowing the lawn (John), some light weeding (me), dog poop scooping (me), and then tying up a sagging bush (blame the three feet of snow that sat on top of it for a month) with neon yellow string (mostly John), John decided that today was the day to somehow attach these extra pieces of latticework (or trellis?  not sure what you’d call it) to the corner of the deck.  In the morning, we’ll have a little shade.  I haven’t figured out what to do about late afternoon.  I took pictures!  I forgot to take a before picture, but here’s one when we were two-thirds of the way done.

Actually, here’s a before picture, no trellis yet, with John hard at work doing…something.  On a ladder.

And here’s the finished product.  From the yard…

…and from the deck.

Since I had my camera out, I figured I’d take some pictures of the yard when it’s at its best.  And the dogs.  So here’s most of the backyard, with my flower bed in need of mulching.  Maybe next weekend.

Here’s the rose bush that’s trying to take over the deck.

Technically, that’s two rose bushes.  Here are few pictures of the dogs taking advantage of the shade.

It’s breezy and the wind chimes are…chiming, I guess, and we could hear them clearly if the windows were open, but did you see how high the pollen count was today?  My car is covered, and even though I was outside most of the day, there’s no way I’m letting clouds of pollen get into the house.

Most of the day got away from us, but all the chores are done (minus the grocery shopping) and John asked for two hours to himself so he can concentrate on his project for school before we settle in with dinner and maybe a movie.   He’ll have to spend much of tomorrow on his project, too, but at least he’ll have done something today, and he won’t have to worry about the lawn and stuff.  And tomorrow morning, we can catch up on the four hours of Lost we have saved on the DVR.  Hopefully, the rest of my weekend will include nothing more taxing than a morning run tomorrow, catching up on TV, lots of Internet time (I have to get my fix in on the weekends, now that I know what my weeks at work look like), a trip to Wegman’s (hardly a chore), and some play time outside with the dogs.  Maybe at the dog park.

For now, I need a shower.  And comfy clothes.  And I’m in for the night.  Oh, one more thing for tomorrow – set up a couple of lunch dates with a couple of friends.

This snow, she is unnatural

Now I have everything I want (for today).  We have a fire blazing in the dining room, and John and I are set up on our laptops across the table from each other.  Riley is on a towel on the floor to my right, and Roxy is on the dog bed in front of the fire.  I have a glass of wine, classical music is coming from the family room, I’m wearing my pretty new shawl from Jess, and if I really want to, I can watch the Super Bowl ads on hulu.com.  I may even turn the TV on at some point during the game (John has expressed an interest in seeing The Who during the half-time show).

We did a lot more shoveling today and managed to get both cars out of and back in to the driveway, so we know we can get out tomorrow.  Then I was done shoveling, but John decided to be a good neighbor and help the downhill neighbors clear their driveway and sidewalk.  I played with the dogs in the backyard.  Then I made John come out with the camera and see it, ’cause it’s really funny to see them try to stay on top of 3 feet of snow.  Which they wouldn’t even try until I jumped in first.

Here’s John shoveling the sidewalk:

And here I made him pose:

And here’s the neighbor with the snowblower who could make a TON of money if he wanted to rent that thing out to his neighbors (or a ton of friends if he wanted to clear everyone’s sidewalks for free):

The poor buried mailbox again:

And the path I dug to it so the mailperson can deliver the mail:

The view down the street:

The view up the street:

The house, with a clear driveway, clear cars, and a TON of snow piled in the yard:

Here’s a short series of Riley in the backyard.  First, sitting nicely but not looking at me:

Second, getting WAY too close to the camera.  That’s his nose in the top right corner.

Third, Riley singing “STOP in the name of love!”:

Me and Riley swimming through the snow:

Roxy coming over to see what’s up:

And here she is, glad to get away before the wrestling and the hand-chewing started:

The hand-chewing started when I grabbed Riley’s lower jaw:

Riley, trying to crouch in the snow and failing miserably:

And here, apparently, he’s trying to fly, but his little ears just aren’t big enough:

Riley and I are sitting on top of 3 feet of snow and..yelling at each other?

And here’s a series of Roxy going “Okay.  Enough with the yelling and playing.  Can we go inside where it’s warm now?  What is WRONG with you people?”

Riley’s sneak attack…

…Ended with kisses:

Then he went back to my hands (coated in bacon maybe?):

Apparently, my hair was coated in bacon, too:

Riley officially won, though, by STANDING on me as I tried to get up:

Okay, enough pictures.  Really.  And it may look like I was having fun in the snow, but don’t believe everything you see on the internet.  That smile was photoshopped.  I had a dream last night that the snow had melted away overnight and I was so happy.  Then I woke up.  Snow snucks.

Snowmygod

The snow just stopped.  Maybe 15 minutes ago.  And the sun is out.  Our total is somewhere around 30 inches, maybe a little more in places.  Definitely more in the corners of our yard.  When we were shoveling this morning, the sidewalks (which were a little lower than the yard) had 24″ of snow.  We spent a couple of hours shoveling the driveway and part of the sidewalk, mostly to make sure we could get the car out if we really had to.  Tomorrow we’ll tackle what fell after we quit, the rest of the sidewalk, and we’ll try to dig John’s car out.  If he can swing it, I really think he should work from home on Monday.  The roads will be terrible.  We had a plow come through sometime last night, maybe early this morning, but none since then.  Our street has at least a foot of snow.  Snow snow-snow, snow-snow-snow.  I’m tired of it.  And it’s way too deep for the dogs.  The first thing we did today was clear a path on the deck, clear the deck stairs, and shovel out an area in the yard so they could get around.  They can blaze their own paths from there, although they really haven’t this time.  They’ve stayed under the deck overhang, where the snow isn’t as deep.  Mark asked for pictures (apparently, he needs proof – Hi, Mark!), so here they are.  Maybe it’ll all disappear overnight.  I’m ready for spring!

Snow depth on the bench around 9:30 last night:

Snow depth on the bench as of about 9:30 this morning (through the sliding glass door with snow on it):

Snow depth on the bench around 4:45 this afternoon:

The back corner of the yard yesterday afternoon (3-ish, I think):

The back corner of the yard around 4:45 today:

My flower bed, buried:

An evergreen in the neighbor’s yard, yesterday:

Same evergreen, after the snow stopped today:

Out the front door this morning:

The driveway, before shoveling:

John shoveling the driveway:

The house, after shoveling (and the buried mailbox):

The neighbors, also shoveling:

And Roxy, peeing in the clearing we shoveled for her:

You’re welcome.  🙂

So yeah, we have lots of snow.  We came in from shoveling around 11:30 or so, showered, and then had breakfast even though it was after noon.  Hot chocolate (of course), cereal (Wegman’s version of Lucky Charms), and muffins.  And we watched a little TV.  Since then, I’ve been messing around on the internet, and John has been stealing cars and beating people up.  Seriously.  Oh, yeah, and we’re drinking champagne that’s been in the fridge since New Year’s.  It’s better aged.  🙂

It’s starting

The DC area’s second giant snowstorm of the season is here, and I really don’t like the name they’ve chosen.  I think they called the December storm “Snowpocalypse”, and they’re calling this one “Snowmageddon”.  “Snowmageddon” is weak, so here are some names I like better:

Snowmygod (heard on the radio)

Snowzilla

Mt. Snowverest

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Snowing – hm, that’s for when the storm is over.

And there I get stuck.  I need more ideas.  In the meantime, here are some pictures as of about 2:15 this afternoon:

And a bonus funny picture of Riley:

The Snowhemoth

The Abominable Snowstorm

The Snow Has Eyes

New, but familiar

You know, I’m really not even a little bit (okay, maybe just a little bit) interested in doing all of the coding for my website (or any website), but I LOVE that I understand it enough to be able to tweak what already exists.  I think that’s really cool.  Here’s version #3, which I like better than both 1 and 2.  Not necessarily better than the original, but if I go back to that version, I make take some things about this one with me.  Here’s the screen shot for future review:

I don’t have much else going on tonight.  John got home a little bit ago, and if I can get him to stop playing his guitar, we can eat dinner.

Here he is!

Update (during the State of the Union address): I love Joe Biden’s tie!  See?

Pictures, as promised

The rearranging is done, but I have all sorts of plans to make our house look like a place where actual grown-ups live, so if the rooms look not quite finished, that’s why.

Dining room:

Family room:

Library (I should have taken these pictures in the morning – better light for this room):

Thank you for playing this edition of Musical Rooms.

Working for a living

I tried to wash my windshield on my drive home this evening before the car had warmed up all the way.  The fluid wasn’t frozen or anything, but as soon as the wipers stopped, the moisture that was left crystallized, then melted away.  It was SO cool.  I did it a couple more times, just so I could watch the ice crystals.  No, I didn’t rear end anyone.

My first week is over, and, while I’d rather not be working at all, I think I like my new job.  You know, enough.  And I certainly like my new co-workers.  I spent the week learning this system (so I can teach it in a few weeks).  (That sounds like I learned it all this week.  I didn’t.)  I was the guinea pig for one of the other new trainers to practice on.  He’s young (22, I think) and kinda nervous about teaching, but he’s funny.  This afternoon, we needed clarification on a particular contract type for acquisitions.  We’re talking about government acquisitions, for government agencies, and the example he came up with to describe how we think it works is puppies.  As in, let’s say the government needs to buy puppies.  They cost $100 each.  We award a contract to buy 12 puppies.  Then we discover we need more puppies.  We (me and the more experienced trainer we were asking for help from) couldn’t listen with a straight face.  Puppies!  In bulk!  I would love to work for that agency.

Puppies!

Seriously, who can resist this?

Really, I think I’m glad to be back at work, in a job I know I can be really good at.  “Relieved” may be a better word than “glad”.  Starting a new job, dealing with new people, having to get up early again and figure out a whole new schedule is stressful, but earning again takes a lot of stress away that I didn’t realize I had.  Mm.  Not true.  I knew I was stressed about that.  But I feel better.  And I’ll feel even better than this when I get my first paycheck.  (And my second.  And my third…)

Enough of that.  It’s the weekend!

The piano has a new home!

I just met the family who contacted me about the piano.  They want it!  Piano adoption is complete.  It will go to its new home over the weekend, probably, after they figure out whose trailer they can borrow.  I met the mom, the dad, and the little girl who’s taking lessons.  I think she’s about 8 or 9.  Definitely between 7 and 10.  They’re very nice people and very appreciative.  The little girl was thrilled.  Once her dad coaxed her to the keys, she played (mostly messing around (chopsticks and that other thing we used to play all the time (not “Heart and Soul” – the other thing)) and making noise, but it was fun piano noise) the whole rest of the time they were here.  They measured (it’ll fit), and I offered to let them go through my piano music when they come back and take what they want (with the exception of a few things I want to hold on to, of course).  Family, if there’s any music you want me to hold on to for you, tell me before Saturday.  The little girl (the parents don’t play) has been practicing on a keyboard (not full-size), so this is working out perfectly for them.  And for me.  The piano is going to a good home where it will be put to good use.  And of course, I told them all about its history (including the cracked harp and the messed up finish).  I told them I checked with you guys before making this decision, and the mom asked me to pass on her thanks.  So, thanks, family, for letting me give our piano to a new family to love.

Am I getting too maudlin?