A blogging friend who is also a composition instructor at a community college blogged the following about her latest class:
To get us going both with introductions and finding topics for the narrative, I asked them to post brainstorms of at least ten significant moments in their lives, moments that could potentially work as topics for their narratives at the same time they shared a bit of themselves with the class as a whole.
At the end of her blog post, which included ten of her own (hilarious and touching) significant moments, she asked her readers about their own micro-moments. Here is one of mine.
Well, there was the time when I hosted the post-party for everyone at my company after our annual Christmas party (~23 employees plus significant others; it was a holding company for other companies employing ~3,000 people; CEO was a prominent figure in Mpls business and society).
Which micro-moment to describe? The one where Smokey built a fire in the fireplace in preparation for everyone arriving… and forgot to open the flue? The house filled with smoke, we had to open all the windows (this was mid-December in Mpls), and so everyone had to enjoy our post-party in their coats in our tiny back den, the only room with a door to close it off from the rest of the smokey house.
Or should I mention that I had made mulled wine (although I hadn’t counted on there being that many people) in an early version of an Air Pot… and it erupted with hot red wine all over the controller of the company?
Or should I talk about how I had made snackies of crackers and cheese and prosciutto-wrapped melon slices and arranged them with loving care on the dining room table… and while we were all in the back den, the cat sampled them and proceeded to hurl his guts out on the table from the richness of the fare? (And I wondered (me in the back den) why no one was partaking of my delicious snackies.)*
My life is long enough that I have a nice backlog of micro-moments. Great blog fodder.
* I forgot to say that I remained an employee at that company for seven more years, which is just another example of what wonderful (and forgiving) people they were.
Smokey got a new bucket and tool holder insert for it. This will be his carry-it-to-the-site toolbox.
The second time he tried to show it to me and explain all its finer points, I told him that, nice as it was, it had already received all the attention it deserved.
However, I do need to show you one more thing about the bucket.
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Look what I discovered! These are going to be my new go-to lunches at work. <$4 each, often good for two meals.
Even better, look at the ingredients lists:
I could hardly believe it -- everything in that list is REAL FOOD! No multi-syllabiccally named chemicals nor preservatives nor *flavor enhancers*.
Of course, the real test is in the eating and the tasting, and these prepackaged meals passed those tests with flying colors. I cook up a pot of brown rice periodically and serve half of one of these over a small bowl of it. Yum. (Except for the ones with spinach. I like spinach, but not, apparently, in these. But there are plenty of different choices, so no problem, mon!)
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A couple days ago I got a cortisone shot in the hip, so I am walking (largely) pain-free again.
Let's start out with a bit of slothfulness. Sloths are slothful.
Trivia question of the day: for what delightful cartoon show on Nickelodeon did Mark Mothersbaugh compose music? (Answer buried in the linked Wikipedia article.) (I loved that show.)
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I am feeling better today, having spent most of the last two days in bed and/or sleeping. Having an iPad makes lying in bed much less boring; just another wonder of the connected age.
On the hip situation, I am now confronted with this decision:
Have the surgery in 2-3 weeks and probably not be able to work this tax season. Although I would be recovered enough to return to work by early March, it is really, really difficult to jump into the middle of tax season. The annual learning curve is just too steep.
Work this tax season and have the surgery ASAP after April 15. A cortisone shot this week and another in early March would ensure relatively pain-free mobility, and working would give a pleasant boost to the checking account.
What would you do and why? Discuss.
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The nurse that I talked to on the nurse line on Sunday ordered me to get a functioning fever thermometer. She wanted to know my temperature and I had to tell her our thermometer was not working properly. I bought that thermometer, an electronic one, last summer so that Elder Son and I could tell if Smokey had a serious infection or just a superficial one. Darned thing insists that everyone's temperature is in the range of 92.4˚F -- 94.2˚F. What with all the kerffluffle during Smokey's recovery, I no longer have the receipt. Damned Wal-Mart. Clearly, it's all their fault.
Yesterday Smokey went on a major errand-running and shopping trip to the Twin Cities. One of his tasks was to purchase a new thermometer. He reports that the traditional glass ones, which I had ordered him to procure, are apparently no longer available. WTF?
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And now for a bit of fun knitting.
Yarn: Colorado Yarns Durango, 50/47/3 wool/acrylic/viscose, worsted weight (perhaps discontinued?), ecru and brown. Pattern: I used Ann Budd's basic mitten pattern from A Knitter's Handy Book of Patterns* for the thumb gusset and did the mittens in 3x1 rib. Recipient's hand is same length as mine but slightly more substantial. Ribbing makes the fit more forgiving. Needles: Addi Turbo US#7; #6 for contrasting end row and bindoff.
These are for an acquaintance who has a coffee kiosk on the highway in my teeny tiny town. Although she claims it is warm inside her 6'x8' building, she has to keep opening the window to take orders and hand out coffee and make change. I suspect that her hands might welcome these during January. I don't know her well, but I do know her well enough to know she deserves these. (She has the best coffee EVAH!)
A side benefit of making these is that I finally figured out what stash yarn -- the ecru Durango -- to use for a pair of long fingerless gloves for myself. I want them for when I am reading in bed; my hands and forearms get cold, and it is annoying to have to keep pulling my pajama sleeves down when I'm wearing regular fingerless gloves. Yeah, it's a real bitch, I tell ya...
* Do you have this book? If not, why not? It is a great resource when you want to make a basic [thing] and just need a little help on the shaping or the cast-on or something. Or, you can follow it blindly; no shame in that.
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Last night I was on the Twitterer. I found it humorously ironic that the most plentiful tweets in my feed were, 1, Chuck Todd (NBC news) live-tweeting the Notre Dame-Alabama game, and b, Amanda Palmer and her followers tweeting about kindness and selflove and how to stop the bullying.
Maybe we should introduce Chuck and Amanda and let them educate each other. Or, really, let Amanda educate Chuck. (Nothing against Chuck Todd. He is one smart dude. But, srsly, which is a more important topic?)
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Speaking of the Twitters, did you watch the season premier of Downton Abbey? Of course you did; we all did. Want to relive it through the eyes of a highly jaded but clever sheep? This guy preserved Dolores Van Hoofen's live-tweet of the premier. What a hoot baaaaah!
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Today is the twelfth fourteenth day of Christmas so I unplugged the lights on the tree. I'd really like to make a tree cover out of a sheet and just store the whole thing somewhere out of sight until next December. But I will probably just let it sit in the *conservatory* until Christmas. Like I have done for X years.
Once the kids leave home all tradition and semblance of civilization go right out the window.
Here is my printout of the sign hanging by my desk (in a place where it is not immediately obvious to everyone walking by -- never a good idea to broadcast one's ignorance at work). I had to print it in b&w and go after it with colored markers.
See that bag of Udi's granola on the desk? It came with a story. Let me tell you it.
I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work* last night to pick up some breakfast and snack and dinner provisions. I was idly watching the screen on the checker's terminal while she scanned the items and noticed a $634 total at the bottom of the screen. At first I thought that must be a shift total or her personal total on that machine, but as I scanned the column of scanned-in prices I saw that my bag of granola came in at...
...
...
...
...
(wait for it)
...
...
...
$618!
I pointed that out and she rescanned it, with the same result. She did a price check, same result. But this time she was laughing and telling the other checkers about my $618 bag of granola. Apparently the price had been input wrong on the front end. In all the hysteria and laughing and trying to correct the error she reversed the entry for a box of crackers (normal price of $2.42), but I was so disgustingly honest I pointed it out.
* Yes, Smokey is well enough now that I can leave him for days at a time. He walks with just a cane now, has been able to cut way back on the pain meds, and will probably return to work sometime in the next month.
