My new car: A saga

In my current job, I have a pretty long commute that is mostly through traffic. I do what I can to avoid the worst of the traffic, but the fact of the matter is I usually spend a couple hours every week inching my way home on a ribbon of pavement with thousands of other commuters. My Prism gets decent fuel economy, but it does not have AC, so in the summer I was acutely aware of how much exhaust all these cars are dumping into the air. Bleck.

I had basically made up my mind to get an electric car next, and over the holidays we had enough time to make those shopping decisions (and by we, I mean Matt). He had settled on a Chevy Spark EV- a small hatchback electric. One little wrinkle, it isn't sold in WA. But it is sold in Oregon. After a bit more research we learn we cant just go down there and buy a new one, but we can buy a used one.

I want to tell this story, but its a bit complicated and quite drawn out, so I will try to fit it to a timeline for you. Its a little more fun if you try to imagine a laugh track being played along with it.

Dec 25: We celebrate Xmas with Betty. We tell her we might spend a few days in Portland car shopping.
Dec 26: Return home.
Dec 27: Water pressure drops- main line is leaking int he yard. We turn off water, and dig a hole to find the leak.
Dec 28: We schedule a plumber. They fail to show up. Matt watches some YouTube videos and fixes it himself.
Dec 29: Plumber comes and tells us to fill in the hole. Not to worry about the line until it gives us serious problems. (This is foreshadowing.)
Dec 31: Matt finds a used Spark online, contacts a dealer and agrees to buy it if they will ship it. They agree to overnight us the papers to make the sale final.

Jan 2: No papers in sight, but we go to Mt Rainier for the weekend. We go snowshoeing and stay at a lodge in the park. It is wonderful. The lodge has a shared shower facility; we opt to shower when we get home.
Jan 3: We go snowshoeing, and head home, fantasizing about warm showers. At home, there is a note from the city on our door: We shut of your water, it was leaking and freezing in the street. Please call the utility. (For the record, no papers from the auto dealer. Also, different leak than the one Matt fixed.)
Jan 4: Plumbers come to give us estimates on replacing the mainline. We connect a hose to the neighbors house to run water. The plumber is scheduled for a week out
Jan 6: Matt calls dealer to ask about missing paper work. They agree to over night it right away.
Jan 7: I get a ticket for expired tabs on the Prism. Which I would not be driving if my new car had arrived.

Jan 9: Paper work arrives, post marked Jan 8. We sign and return it, expecting it to arrive Jan 11.
Jan 10: Matt calls dealer. Loan goes through (Matt will call the dealer every day this week to ask various versions of whats the hold up?) The plumber comes to start the replacement process. He goes home sick
Jan 11: Replacement plumber comes to finish the job. Water is turned back on. Faucets no longer smell like hose.

Jan 14: Shipment of the car is scheduled.

Jan 16: I fly to Austin for a week. Later that afternoon, the car arrives. The dealer has not included temporary plates. Matt calls the dealer. Again.

Jan 20: Temporary plates arrive. Real plates should arrive in ~3 weeks if the dealer has done this properly. (Not real confident that this is the case.) Matt can legally test drive the car. The car we agreed to buy Dec 29.

Jan 25: I take the car for its first commute. I get rear ended on the way home. *rimshot*

Now at this point, the claim on the accident AND the actual permanent  plates are still outstanding, but we are hoping the worst is behind us. A friend suggested I needed to make amends to the old car, to clean up my car Karma and maybe make things right there.

I rescued a cat. I feel terrible.

I had a doctors appointment today (1 year post-op!), which means I worked from home and walked. On my way home, I noticed a little lump of fur in the leaves by the side walk. It hissed at me, and then meowed pathetically. And when I looked at it straight on, it hissed, and then meowed again. Heart breaking meows, like I am so sorry for that hiss, but I dont feel good right now and I am scared, and I am cold, and I am alone...

Well, I couldn't unsee that, I couldn't unhear that, and I couldn't walk away. I have no idea what to do though. I am on the side of a busy street, with no other pedestrians. This cat doesn't have a collar, and might be mean. I pull out my phone, and look for cat rescue, which leads me to animal control, who tell me to take the cat to a vet clinic. I call the vet clinic (because really? You can just leave stray, injured animals there?), and they say, well, actually, take it to the animal hospital. If the cat looks injured (and this one seems not right about the back legs), its going to need care all night, and we go home. A guy came by to check on the cat, and said it had been there since 6am. He also didn't know what to do. But now I have been talking to the cat, and it let me pet its head a bit.

I am going to help this cat.

I go back to the doctors office and get a box with a lid. I take my sweater off and put my coat back on. The cat is shivering, and it doesn't mind when I throw a sweater on it. I figure I can cover the sharp bits with the sweater to move it into the box and slam the lid on. But the cat doesn't fuss at all when I pick it up. It also cant move its hind legs when I get it in the box. Its legs are sticking out so I cant get the lid shut.

I just have to get the cat to the hospital.

I am talking to the cat the whole way home. Its ok. You are having a bad day. Almost there. You are so brave. Good kitty. Its ok, buddy. ... And the cat is talking back. That same, lonely, scared meow. The hospital is close, and they gladly spring to action. Lets get him into a room, and have a look, they say.

Now the cat is warm and alert. And friendly. He nuzzles the microchip scanner the detects nothing. He nuzzles the vet tech as she pulls him onto a clean towel. He looks for a new hand to nuzzle as the vet tech pinches those back legs to see if he feels anything. Nothing. She says he has no circulation back there. She takes him back to see a doctor, and they tell me Thanks for bringing him in.

I am going to hold my cat and cry now.

I am pretty sure they are going to put that cat down. They probably already did. Matt says dying by the side of the road would be worse than going to a cat hospital. And that is true, but now I feel like I lost a cat that was mine for a while. I feel like I lied to the cat. I feel like if I could be so moved by a cat, why do I not do more to help with human suffering? I feel like I should not have left the cat to be put down by strangers, when I might have stayed with it. I feel like my rescue backfired. I almost want to call the hospital to see what happened to the cat, but the outcome seems so obvious. For a minute today, I thought I was going to be a hero, but now I just feel heart sick.

Mom and Dad's Wedding Announcement

In going through Nana's momentos, I found this. I am always amazing by what she still kept. She and I sat together while she ruthlessly parsed out old photos, giving them to children and nieces or nephews, or just straight to the bin. Before she moved to Bothell, she was feeling particularly unsentimental about objects, but this gem she kept. Or at least, she allowed me to "hold on to it for her" at my house.

Preecs-Warner Wed

Buried in other albums are choice photos from the wedding itself, including the remarkable pink tuxedo. I just think it's lovely that this treasured clipping still exists. Especially given Nana's fondness for newspaper clippings.

Home ownership

Matt and I have been working on some next level adulthood lately. My commute is bad enough to motivate me to get into the office at 6:30 most mornings, which means we have a habit of early bedtimes and quiet evenings. Today I decided to try to ride my bike (and bus), which took a little longer than usual. I was trying to tell Matt the tragicomic story of my commute...
...So when the bus finally DID show up, I got my bike wedged the wrong way into the bike rack and the bus driver had to get out to help me...
But there are all these bugs flying around. Ick. Big, fat, stupid bugs. That sorta look like termites. Im still committed to this story, ...
...When I finally got the garage door open, I realized that the bike cave has a number combo lock, which I dont remember...
But Matt has moved into responsible homeowner mode, and he is walking around the porch, killing bugs, and trying to guess where they are coming from. It was hard to end on a triumphant note, but I forged ahead.
...So I realized there is another bus I can take from the freeway stop I am at, to the freeway stop close to the house, so I just got on the next bus to show up, and pedaled another mile home...
During my lame story about how I can ride a bike, Matt uncovered a burgeoning hornet next, and a Raccoon Latrine. One of two latrines he found, in fact.

Matt was feeling domestic, and wanted to deal with these things right away, and I was feeling skeeved out, so I did the research (and boiled the water), and he did the action. You can picture me shouting out the window to him: Honey, its round worm you have to be careful of. Put on some boots and a mask.

The good news is that the first bugs are not termites, but flying ants. Yes, that passes for good news here.

New Job!

One of my big worries about my recovery process from surgery is that I was losing my job at the same time. I worried that I'd languish is a sort of post-recovery doldrum for too long, and my job hunt would be derailed. I was doing a lot of work up until about mid-December, and then... holidays, pre-op,... I just didn't have a lot of time. Mercifully, my old job asked me to let them know if/when I might be able to help out with some contract work, and that spurred me along after the recovery. This was good, because it basically masked the effects on my resume of taking a month off for surgery, and gave me some practice at working, which helped me gauge my recovery better than watching TV and playing solitaire.

I had applied for a job at Tableau in December, and was called in before the holiday. I was really excited about the role- my old manager recommended me for the job, because he works on the team. With another former editor of mine. And they are both very happy with the work, the vibe, the boss, etc... And Tableau just does very cool stuff (data visualization- or making pretty graphs). I was tickled when the hiring manager told me during my interview that while he wasn't sure how the team would decide to hire for this role, he thoughts I was a good fit, and that the team was growing. So if not this opening, than soon. He'd be in touch. I thought I must be as shoe in, but I was only slightly disappointed when I learned, on the way home from the hospital, that I didn't get the job.

Imagine my happy surprise when I received a call from that very recruiter at the end of January asking if I would be willing to talk about a different role on the same team. Oh sure! I was concerned because of the three roles on the team (Instructional Designer, Technical Writer, and eLearning Specialist), the third I felt least qualified for, and of course, that is what they wanted to talk about. Would I ruin my chances of getting a job on this team if I blew this interview? I let my old coworker/officemate convince me I have a lot of eLearning experience, and I went in with an open mind.

In this interview, I reinterviewed with two people I had already met, and clearly, the tables had turned. They asked as couple probing questions, but were much more concerned with my interest, and selling me on the fit. The hiring manager made it sound like this was a sure thing, and the he very much hoped I didn't take something else in the meantime. After the interview, I went to lunch with my old manager, who is a tech writer on this team. He reiterated that they were really hoping to find a place for me, and I asked him why they would bring me into the role I am least qualified for. He gave me confidence that the team would be patient while I learned what there is to know, and that everyone really was a kind, and enthusiastic as they appeared in the interview.

Great, now I WANT this job, I'm excited about this job, and I still don't have a lot of confidence that I can get this job. I was on pins and needles all weekend, wondering when I might hear... something? Anything?

Monday afternoon, I got an email to set up a call with the recruiter. Matt confirmed that she would only want to talk to me if there were good news to discuss- not bad news to deliver. Indeed there was an offer. I took some time to think about it because there were terms I couldn't quickly parse over the phone, and factors that the recruiter couldn't weigh in on. I contacted my future boss to ask him about flex-scheduling- oh sure, he really wants to make that work. I signed the offer, and agreed to start on March 2.

That leaves me plenty of time to continue healing and get in shape, finish my current contract, visit Gramma W and Noel's family, and maybe even get my own house in order a bit. I guess my worry about falling off into a jobless abyss was unfounded- or if not unfounded, at least surmountable. I'll share more about what I actually do, once I figure that out.

In other news, I've been jogging a bit, hiking some, and am officially cleared to slowly bring back any other form of activity I like. Recovery is going well. We've started some major effort to rearrange furniture at our house, which may take some time to settle. Matt's stepmom sent me her old hockey skates, so we are looking forward to giving that a (slow, stuttering, awkward) attempt this weekend.

I had my kidney out- Hospital Edition

It's been three weeks since our big transplant surgery. In the lead up to that, Matt, Kelsey, GW, Nana, Shaoshu and I had one of the best Christmases on record. Everyone was very mellow, we ate a lot of egg dishes and candy, got to sit around the fire, sleep, laugh and enjoy eachother's company. I think everyone was trying not to be nervous about their respective roles, and it was just really nice to reconnect a little before the surgery. I had plenty of time to get in my final work outs (no missed days in December!). A couple days before surgery, Kelsey and GW and GW's parents moved into an apartment closer to the hospital. This was obviously a good choice long term, but my house felt really empty without them.

The day before surgery, I was on a liquid diet, so Matt and I had a quiet day at home. During the day, I felt quite brave, and was getting intermittent check ins from all corners. Thanks to everyone who called and texted. But as the day started to fade, and I tried to pack a bag, and think about sleeping before my 4am wake up call... well, sleep didn't come easily. Packing a bag was hard. Will I be able to wear clothes? (Answer, nah, a hospital gown is fine, but my baggiest PJs helped me get home). What will I need to sleep? (eye mask and ear plugs) Books? TV? What will I feel like watching and doing? What will Matt need to keep him busy while I am healing? Will he spend the night? In the end, we each packed basically an overnight bag, which seemed disconcertingly light. Weeks before I had assured Matt that if everything went as planned, he could go home to sleep at night, but the day before hand, I just wasn't so confident that I would feel brave in an empty hospital room at night. He readily agreed to come prepared to stay for a while.

As the evening wore on, Matt went to fix something in the garage (read: he was anxious), and GW sent me a great short video of Niel DeGrasse Tyson, which reminded me I should watch Cosmos. I've been reading Death by Blackhole, which has the right amount of funny and technical for reading until I am quite sleepy, and Cosmos has a similar tone of optimistic wonderment that helped take my mind off of what was coming.

I should probably mention here that I assumed I would be pretty much obliterated by this surgery. I was hoping I would be too drugged to remember how much pain I was in, and I was very afraid that I would be making a slow crawl back to self sufficiency. I was told recovery takes 2-6 weeks, which I was taking to mean I might be able to walk, feed myself, and possibly sit at a computer for a few hours after a month. All this kinda made me think that the start point was going to be pretty bad. I was resigned to all of this, I figured it was a trade for a fraction of the suffering GW had to deal with, I would just get it in one big dose. I had just made up my mind to go through with it, even when I wasn't feeling especially brave, like at midnight the night before surgery.

Somehow we slept, albeit briefly, because check-in was at 5:30am. No traffic at that time. I decided to look forward to seeing Kelsey and GW and his parents, and try not to think about... you know... We got settled into a room on the transplant floor, that was a couple doors down from GW. I got hugs from everyone, which was so good. You know how frail you feel after eating nothing but juice for 24 hours? Yeah, not like a brave person, so the hugs really helped. And the hospital room was just too bright, too foreign, not to get a little antsy. When they came to put my IV, the nurse asked if I wanted lidocaine to numb the spot. I started to say no, and then thought 'I'm having a hard enough time holding it together, why not just let this lady be nice to me?' I decided right then I would take anything I was offered that seemed like it would help, even if it might make me seem super wimpy. I didn't want to be tearing up over an IV, or anything else. It's courageous enough just to be the donor, without trying to be a tough guy the whole time too.

I poked my head in to GW's room, where he was cacooned under heated blankets, also trying not to be nervous. The were supposed to take me down an hour before him, so we said our goodbyes, and I waited in my bed for someone to wheel me away. Both Matt and I were feeling at little giddy with anxiety by this point. Being there, I really knew I was here to Do Some Good, everyone was being terrifically kind, but... OMG, they were about to cut my guts out! I was wheeled into the pre-op room, which was full of nervous middle age people in gowns, some of them shuffling into the restroom, most of them lying in their own hospital beds with a loved one looking on. Matt and I were trying to feel youthful and brave, when another bed rolled in- for whatever crazy reason, they brought GW down an hour early. I know that must have been torture for him, but I was SO happy to see him. He got parked next to me, so I got extra hugs from Kelsey, and we could keep joking and chatting up to the last minute. He made my nurse bring me a Bair Hug- the inflating, warm air circulating, blanket. The nurse told him that he could wear his beanie, which made us realize we should have got Renal Riot hats for the big day. My anesthesiologist stopped by to chat, and was just amazed to see us carrying on like this right before surgery. All the nursing staff and surgeons were loving it. This is where we took the high five picture that got a couple hundred FB likes (not to mention instagram). The nurse offered to set our families up in a family waiting room, where they could get updates from surgery. It felt like we were getting VIP treatment.

And then they wheeled me in. I got one last hug and kiss from Matt and Kels, and a high five from GW. With no one holding my hand or encouraging me, I suddenly felt very alone, very tiny, and not especially brave. I think the hallways to the OR might be one of the longest hallways in all of Seattle. I was told that when we got in the room, the anesthesiologist would give me something to "calm down" prior to starting surgery, so I figured I just had to get in there, and things would take their course. The OR nurse introduced herself on the way (really, we had that much time rolling down this hallway), and she told me to expect some of the other people in the room (I have no idea who now, but I was glad she mentioned that). The asked me to move myself onto the operating table. By now I almost forgot that I was still able bodied for a few minutes, and happily did the sideways scoot. They hooked up my IV, told me they were going to do some... other stuff, who knows... and I had a last minute sense of calm...

...The next thing I remember, was the recover room. A nurse had come to chat with me, and I was amazed that my mouth seemed to be able to make words. This is probably because my nearest experience with surgery was having my wisdom teeth out, when my mouth was packed with cotton. I remember thinking I felt more lucid than I expected, and wasn't in pain yet, although I don't remember having my eyes open. Someone a few beds down was crying for their mother, and the nurse told me not to worry, that person was confused. to which I said, "I understand that. I'm feeling pretty confused myself..." But I knew, I knew, my mom was nearby and was going to give me a hug really soon.

In my memory, I was magically transported to my hospital room, where people (I assume Matt, and Kelsey and my parents where there) told me I was looking pretty good. I remember thinking I felt pretty good considering. I was allowed to eat ice chips which seemed nice, I felt thirsty and my throat was a bit sore. The nurse wanted to look at my incisions. I was a little afraid to see, but there was a big pressure bandage over my hips, so the big cut was a mystery for now. The little cuts had bloody gauze under clear plastic sticker things. I would later learn that under that were steristrips, basically the sticker versions of stitches. Overall, it looked worse than I hoped, but much better than expected. I got a button to administer my own pain meds, and like I said, I had determined I didn't really need to tough out feeling discomfort. Everyone else already had heard the good news, but at some point I was told (and remembered) that GW's new kidney was working. And working really well. Hooray!

A weird thing that the night shift nurse explained to me was that some of these drugs don't necessarily make a person sleepy. By the evening, I had been up and chatting with visitors most of the day. Matt has asked for a cot to be brought in to sleep next to me. I had barely slept the night before, and I just... didn't feel sleepy. My throat was hurting more now, from the intubation, and my (wonderful) nurse brought me nasal spray for my itchy nose, and lidocaine lozenges for my throat. I sat up and watched Star Trek: Next Generation and Kung Fu Panda cartoons with a few cat naps for most of the night. When the nurse would come in and wake Matt up (I was usually awake), he would hold my hand across the gap in the beds. I tell you, there is something really comforting and encouraging about having someone hold your hand while we are in a hospital bed.

Later that night, GW called me from down the hall. He wanted to know I was doing ok. His first question on waking up was about me, but he wanted to check on me himself. And then he told me he was doing really well. The kidney was working so well, he was dropping 30mL of fluid a minute for most of the day. And he said he felt pretty good. And I gotta tell you- that was the moment that I felt like it was worth it.

The next couple days were punctuated by a number of firsts. The drugs I was on made it terribly hard for me to focus on anything, so time seemed to move shockingly slowly. By the night of surgery I stood beside my bed for the first time. The next day I was allowed to eat Jello, my first food since Saturday. I took a few steps out of bed. The surgeons came to check on me, and told me I could eat my first solid food that afternoon. I took my first pain pills by mouth. Shaoshu came to visit, Kelsey went home to sleep. I walked down the hall to see GW. He came down the hall to see me. I went to the bathroom myself. I got to use body wipes to "bathe." A resident came by to take off the big bandages, revealing a few bloody steristrips hiding tiny cuts. I learned how to cough with a pillow pressed on my stomach. I put on underwear. I started walking laps of the hallway, gingerly holding my stomach in place.

The day after surgery, the surgeons, giddy from seeing GW's success, popped into to brag about my kidney and told me I could probably go home the next day. This sounded crazy to me, but the next day, we had found a painkiller that I could tolerate, I was walking short distances confidently and could eat food. Although it seemed comfortable to have a nurse prepared to answer at the push of a button, I knew both Matt and I would sleep better at home, so we left the hospital around 2:30 that afternoon. A pre-med volunteer wheeled me down to the car. I was wearing my biggest PJs, had a pillow between my stomach at the seat belt, and we timed our exit to shortly after my dose of painkiller.

I'll give more updates on the rest of recovery later soon, but for now, I'm back to job hunting and working, and about to head over to Nana's for tea.

Kidneys etc

I'm pretty sure everyone here knows about this, but I wanted to note in the family timeline that I'm planning to donate a kidney. I've been planning to do this for a long time now, but I wrote about it here, in case you haven't seen that yet.

Perhaps Kels or even a guest blogger will be interested in sharing more about what that looks like to Team GW. Perhaps they will be interested in writing for my hypothetical book of short stories about kidney donation. If finding a job takes too long, that's going to be what I work on to keep myself busy. More on that later.

Things are good here- we are planning a camping trip to the Olympics for Thanksgiving, and STILL get to eat stuffing with the family this Sunday. Work is winding down, but I feel like this is a nice time of year for some free time.

Remembering Uncle Bob

Today we went to the memorial service for Uncle Bob. I can't say that Bob and I were close, but my personal feeling is that grief is easier when shared, so I wanted to be there to support the members of his (and my) family who were grieving. And you know what? You always learn about the deceased at a funeral, and chances are you see people you ought to see more often. If it weren't so dang sad, funerals would be really cool.

Here are some things I learned about Uncle Bob today:

• Uncle Bob was a union carpenter. 
• He worked on the Kingdome and Seattle Center.
• He built rigging to support shipments sent for the drilling efforts on the North slope.
• He loved Lifetime movies.
• He was a swimmer.
• He ate a lot of icecream. Like, a whole lot. Every day, by the sounds of it.

Because I had the privileged of going to the service with Nana (and Mom and Dad), we also go to swing by the address where she grew up- 510 9th Ave SE. (She says it surprising which things stick in your memory.) The house is gone, but the address is just a few blocks from Meridian, the main drag of Puyallup, and parking for the State Fairgrounds. She told us there used to be a Japanese internment camp on the corner there. That's a bit of local history that I've never really recognized so directly.

We got to see (and hug, and share memories with) some of the farther flung cousins, which was great. It made me really glad I was able to go. Maybe we shouldn't wait until the next funeral to do that again.

Matt Makes Me Crazy

 You know how there are some couples where one half of the couple has, maybe, a strong personality or a very conspicuous habit, and you can see HUGE pull that has on the other person? The sort of, "Wow, if I had to live with someone like that, I'd go nuts!" situation? Well, I think, in a way, I might be the other half of that couple- but probably not the way you are thinking.

It's not that Matt has a strong personality, but some how, living with him has desensitized me to some things I NEVER thought I'd be desensitized to. Here is just a punch list:

• While at speed on my bike, I collided with a squirrel, who was flipped into my pedals, bounced off my leg, before he ran away. I screamed a lot, (a LOT) and then rode my bike home.
• Sometimes, I deadlift.
• For more than a minute, I was considering the feasibility of running a half marathon. (I don't have any special love for running, it's just easy to do wherever you are.)
• I ran my first 10k. It took 1hr and 17 min. I repeat, I was running for an hour and seventeen minutes.
• Matt had a race that I didn't want to wait around for, so I made our friend Adam go on a 10 mile hike with me.(We saw the changing of the larches- which was beautiful)
• The previous two bullets happened on the same weekend. My hips are punishing me today. What kind of crazy person have I become??

You see, I live with someone who apparently rides 100 miles a week, who has at least one race booked for every weekend in the foreseeable future, and who gets really weird if he doesn't get a proper sweaty workout in every day. And of course, our friends support this crazy healthy lifestyle by participating in as much running, hiking and biking as is imaginable. It's inevitable that I'd get sucked into this craziness, and even forget that while I can sometimes do one epic thing, stringing them together doesn't make them easier. Ha! Of course, Matt makes all this look quite effortless. He will often ride 14 miles in a day in his commute, then run 5 miles before dinner. And maybe lift weights with me, if I need his help spotting anyway. He ran the 5K version of that 10K I ran, and he came in second. To Jeffrey. Oh, and they both decided to run the 5K, because they had a cyclocross race on Sunday. TWO RACES in ONE weekend. Living with He-man kinda makes you want to stay in shape.

But of course, now he is in the kitchen doing the dishes and singing along to MAGIC! and the pop charts like no one can hear him. ("Marry that girl, I'm gonna marry her anyway...") I suppose this marital influence goes both ways.

On perhaps a related note, I'm struggling to make my weight lifting goals (2-3 times per week, training to squat, deadlift and press my own weight). I'm about halfway there, but it's slow going. Does anyone want to be my virtual weight lifting buddy?

Monthly goals

I made my two fitness goals this month: Cycle 100 km, and run 50 km. (Total, over the month).
Strava tells me I've biked 176 km, and run 51 so far. Hooray! Will see if I can keep up next month. I was pleased that the hardest part was making the time, not the fitness required. But it's going to be harder to make the time now that the weather is getting dodgier, bike commuting seems more questionable, and late night runs require more planning. But, it's nice to maintain a (comparatively) high level of fitness, so that when it is nice out, I can easily go for long hikes without killing myself.

One of my other goals for the month was job hunt related. It's definitely time in the process where I need to be putting out regular application, but I'm still... unsure what I'm looking for.

I made myself go to a networking meeting for people who are arguable in my instructional design field. And I hated it! We had nothing in common, I found them difficult to communicate with, and it was a nightmare to try and imagine myself as some self serving middle manager, fretting first and foremost over "personal branding" and leadership coaching. (Especially as it became clear that no one was in perfect agreement about what those things meant.) I might be too objective for this career path.

But, rather than write another "Woe is the perennial job hunter," I'm doing something about it. One of my coworkers used to work as a career coach, and currently supervises a team of people who help students find jobs. She agreed to work with me (for super cheap!) because she wants to do more career development stuff, and I need help! She is a very positive person, and because we work together, she has a better sense of my capabilities than if I tried to explain this to someone in a one hour session. Step one is describing some positive previous work experiences, and describing my dreams for my next job. It's amazing to me how little detail I have in the dream, but we are just starting the process. I've also been sending really nosy emails to people on campus, so hopefully I can rustle up some interesting opportunities for myself. Today I realized I have 14 weeks left in my contract, and will have 7 weeks of vacation/holiday/sick leave to expend, so now is a good time to get serious about What Next.

I know other family members are thinking about career moves, so I'll let you know how this coaching works out.

Short sweet nothings

Another round of vignettes from our life.

The third of 4 weddings was over the weekend. We got to show up early, help with the set-up and generally goof off with the groom's part of the wedding party. It was a beautiful spot in the woodsy part of Skagit county, and I got to catch up with some old friends from high school.

The fourth wedding will be next weekend in Toronto. Matt won't be joining me (see last entry on Death Valley).

* * *

We have an apple tree.
Like all the things in our garden, it must learn to thrive with a steady pace of benign neglect. It was pruned last year, and had precious little attention since then.
Wednesday night, we pulled down 60 pounds of apples. From the fruit left on the tree, I expect another 60 lbs.
Matt wants to press and ferment these. I would be happy to make a lot of applesauce. We will see what gets accomplished before we both leave town again.

* * *

I defended my PhD more than 3 years ago. Pretty cool right? Every so often, I will ask myself if I miss benchwork, and if I should go back and do a post-doc. This is important, because many types of funding for postdocs are only available for 5 years after defense. I still don't feel like going back to the bench, but I was reminded on another type of fellowship that is only available for 5 years after defense. It's a science policy fellowship. My application is due at the end of the month.

* * *
My work has gotten "busy." To help my boss during a course of medical leave, I was assigned to project manage a small contract to create educational simulations. Fortunately for her, my boss has had much more energy and enthusiasm for her work than anyone has predicated. As a result, but job is not busy with decision making and leadership, but composing and waiting for replies to emails that need to be coordinated. This is less glamorous than I expected.

* * *

I've been lifting weights some this summer. I have a set of hobbyist weights that Shaoshu gave me when he moved. My big lifts (squats, deadlift, bench press) are just moving into the range of weight that would allow me to put weight on the 45 lb Olympic weight bar at a normal gym.
That's kinda cool.

Mosaic of Happenings

A few short notes of no special relevance, in no particular order:

I rode my bike to work on Friday.
Matt rides his bike in every day- the 7 mile trip takes him 20-25 min each way.
My 9+ mile trip took about an hour.
My friend Adam drove me home, so we could begin our weekend adventures. Next time, tomorrow, I will be driving my bike past some of the scary/trafficy part of the ride, and still probably riding 6ish miles, in 45 min or so. But I have to ride home, too.

* * *

I've been running "a lot"* lately. I bought some new trail running shoes, since my knees report my old ones were wearing out. The first pair I bought were super light weight, looked like a unicorn puked them up (vibrant reds, purples and yellows all swirled together), and made my toes fall asleep when I ran. I traded them in for a blue pair that look like keds skate shoes. The new ones meet the approval of both my knees and toes. And ankles.

*I can claim to be running a lot based on my current Strava standings. Strava is an app that tracks your mileage, records, etc, and lets you virtually race others. I've joined a "how many miles can you run this month?" challenge every month this summer, and I've been in the  top half every time. That's right- I run more than some people!

* * *

This year we were invited to 4 weddings, 3 of them in August.
One of Matt's old roommates got married a couple weekends ago. They found a beautiful castle/B&B in Tacoma to get married in. They rented out the whole B&B for thier family, but most of the family decided to make the drive home after, so we got to stay in the castle over night.
Castle weddings are awesome.
Also, macaroons are a legit substitute for wedding cake, especially (but not only) if you are marrying a French person.

* * *

This weekend, we did a hike to Mt Shuksan and Lake Ann.The trail was storybook perfect, with long meandering creeks that had wide, flat, not-slippery stones at easy points across them, and switch backs that gently climbed us the ~2,000 feet over a ridge.
The appeal of Mt Shuksan is that there are glaciers there. I haven't seen a lot of glaciers not in Alaska. Mt Shuksan has "hanging glaciers." We tried to guess how a hanging glacier was different, and I wondered why one mountain would have more than one glacier.
The actual view looked like some bits of a big glacier were stuck on the side of this mountain- so little compared to glacier attached to ice fields.
Still totally worth the hike.

We also saw some pika.

* * *

For Labor Day weekend, I am going to a wedding in Toronto, and Matt is going to spend two weeks in Death Valley doing "summer testing" of a truck. I assume this means they stress test the truck- driving it hot and hard in the worst possible climate to see if they can kill it. This seems like the weirdest possible way to explore Death Valley, but I'm really excited for Matt to go on this trip.

I'm also excited for when he comes back- we might actually spend a weekend in our own house.
Or we might go camping. With mountain bikes.
I'm excited for both options.

I need a new attitude

It's getting to be that time in the job cycle when I need to look for a new job. The current contract ends in December with no chance of renewal and it is time to move on. I like my current job and my current team, but I'm ready to try something more challenging (honestly, my work seems to have vast periods of awkward boredness to contend with).

But.... every time I sit down to do something job hunting related- update my resume, seek openings, put in applications- I find myself feeling really acutely like I want to cry. And crawl into bed forever. And cry some more. I'm not sure what it is exactly- I actually think it might be a poor habit from the YEAR I spent looking after graduation. But every time, I spend 20 minutes on LinkedIn, open a bunch of links that seem somewhat promising and then basically talk myself out of every single one of them. Ugh, that commute would be terrible. I couldn't stand to work on a sales team. That product is too mind numbingly boring to work with. There feels like there is no good opportunity for me and I feel hopeless. And then I either lose my momentum to any number of internet distractions, or I push through until I can't go any further without a hug.

Which is weird, because I'm actually fairly optimistic about my next job hunt. I've got some good experience and some interesting work to show, so I think I am well poised to find myself something more tailored to my interests. When I talk about what I am looking for, or go meet people for the purpose of talking about a job, I feel good. I have a story to tell. I know where I am headed.

And then I get home to my computer and it is all exsistential doubt.

So I'm thinking I need some new, more uplifting job hunting strategies. Any thoughts?

$30,000 in the bag!

Guys! Over at the other blog... we did it!

If you want to get in on the last chance to donate for this crazy affair, you can still donate to my 5K run on Sunday. But the important thing is that you don't have to, because I already hit the $30,00 mark.  How cool!!

Weekend of Champions

I would like to support some of the blog action that has been happening here. And while my pictures aren't as cute, there are pictures. 

As part of the whole, raise $30K for charity scheme, and a general sense of learning to lead a fitter lifestyle, we've been trying to run some 5Ks this summer.  I just completed a training program for running 5K distance (using the Pear app and a heart rate monitor- it was pretty great), so I figured we shoudl find a race. Hence, the OFIT 5K for Queen Anne Public Schools. Also the race map indicated this was a mostly flat course, along Elliot Bay's beautiful waterfront. Sign me up! And Matt! And my friend Jessica who just decided to get in to running, thanks to the Oatmeal. 

My goal was to finish in 45 min. 

I finished in about 42. 

My friend's goal was to finish.

She finished about 1 minute behind me (she let me pace her for about the first 3 miles).

Matt's goal was not to wear himself outbefore his bike race the next day.

He finished third overall and first in his age group.

So all around success. What was great about this event- and I have found many similar events in the region- was that there were a lot of children running. Or "running." This is cool, because it really mellows out whatever sense of competitiveness there might be for a 5K. And it pretty much guarantees I can pass someone. Yes, some/many/most of those people were less than 10 years old. Yes, one of those 6 year olds had a prosthetic leg. Whatever. My training worked, and I was able to run as far and as fast as I planned, and I felt great afterwards, and we went to eat eggs for breakfast. It was cool.

Oh, and Matt was a ribbon.  

Today, Sunday, was the final race in the mountain bike series Matt has been riding in this winter/spring. This is a fun event, with cash prizes to top finishers, and the seasons awards are given out. Matt wanted to do well in this race, in general because he has been doing well this seasons, but in particular because of the chance to win some $$. I took a cow bell out and cheered people on. Or tried.

Let me give you a sense of what spectating mountain biking is like. So the riders are launched in groups by age- ~10 under 18 riders, ~12 under 29 riders, 6 under 40 riders, etc... the launch 2 minutes apart. The spread of talent and pace is such that the fastest over 50 rider will definitely pass the slowest under 18 rider... and everyone else in the field. So when Matt starts a race like this, he looks at passing ~26 other guys. He has a decent start (meaning he launches and elbows his way in front of most of the guys in his age group). 

There was one very technical section that was easy for spectators to watch, with these guys bounding over tree roots, then landing and turning immediately on a gravel road and shooting off uphill into the woods again. It's 10 minutes from the start line. I try to put out of my mind that there seems to be a lot of minor injury in this event- guys regularly laugh about scrapped and bloodyknees or elbows. About 6 riders in, and under 29 rider jumps out of the trees, and his bike slides sideways on the gravel out from under him. He is embarassed, but looks over his shoulder (no oncoming riders, just a small crowd of spectators who start clapping when he stands up), grabs the bike and starts running to flatter ground. This guy will definitely have gravel in his shins.

Matt goes through in a tight group with 4 or so other riders. The person at the front of his group looks like he might be 15, but it's hard to guess other ages. For each of them, as the come flying out of the woods, thier tires skid but the hold it together and continue on. I'm about to go to the next spot for spectating when another pair of kids come out of the woods. The first makes the transition with enough grace, but the second does not. The rider is down, and I can see he is tangled up in his bike enough that spectators lean in to give him a hand. I see one of the organizers go sprinting down the hill to catch a first aid kit, and in the meantime, someone has stepped into the woods to tell the next riders to watch out for the kid laying in the trail. Shudder.

The kid was fine. I saw him cooling down later with an icepack taped to his knee while he pedaled around. 

The general take away is that mountain bike spectating is boring and then scary. And then boring again if you are lucky.

Anyway, Matt came in 3rd overall on this race. He won $40 for this feat.

 

 Third overall was also first in his age group. He won $40 for this. And another medal.

 

After a season of racing, Matt was first in his category for (Intermediate riders, aged 30-39). 

He got a sweet plaque. This will probably go with the rest of his hardware, gathering dust in various corners of his office and garage.

Nana Stories

In support of the blogging that is happening, I wanted to jump in with a post. The other evening, Shaoshu cooked a traditional Szechuan dinner for us and Nana, as an excuse to hang out with Nana. Shaoshu and his girl friend Mylinh (Vietnamese American) were impressed by Nana's willingness to try the new and different food, and her competence with chopsticks. We all have met people our own age who don't know how to use chopsticks, and refuse to try. Props to Nana. 

We got to talking about Nana's days living in a houseboat on Lake Union. She described on mirage they had in a fairly secluded area at the base of a hill. It was secluded enough that Nana would slip out in the morning wearing only a slip and a bra ("because we didn't wear pants in those days") to put a few laundry items on the line to dry. One morning, Papa's friend Dick's father was in town, and he dropped in on them at just that very moment- undressed, outside the boat. "I grabbed a dish towel and held it up in front of me life I was about to hang it, and gestured with the whole thing 'you just go right on in, right over there.' Then I ran to my neighbors house, undressed, and begged to borrow a dress. The only thing she had was a plaid thing with giant bubble sleeves. I put in on and went back to the boat and tried to act like nothing happened. He never raised an eyebrow and I never said a thing!"

I will be flossing every day for the rest of my life.

I went to the dentist on Friday. That was good. I needed to find a new dentist, and this was a little community office, not too busy for me to get in pretty quickly. The dentist was friendly, and they used digital Xrays. As someone who hasn't been to a dentist a couple years, I was primed to be impressed. I met the dentist first, then got the cleaning. At the end of the visit, she came back in to confirm that the horrifying tea stains were cleaned off my teeth (yay!) and to mention that I have "a few cavaties," and she told me to make an appointment to get them filled.

Wha???

So, I have never really had cavities. I have a memory of being asked to get one filled once, but that didn't involve a needle of any type. While most people have done this dance a number of time by my age, I was taken aback. Me? Cavities? The dentist probably assumed I knew the drill (pun intended), and I couldn't muster any questions until after I left. With an appointment to get my cavities filled this morning.

Since I have never been through this process, forgive me for giving excruciating detail to what is routine dental care. Part of me was a little concerned that I might not be at a good dentist, since she seemed to have lots of appointment available to see me. But it wasn't until I was in the chair that it occurred to me I was letting someone permanently remodel my teeth. There was a brief moment when I asked for additional Novocain (because I could feel cold with my tooth, not pain, but um, let's not let that progress), and she asked if I was ok. I know that I was trembling from the needles and seeing (a little) blood on the dental tools, and I realized that I had no proper basis for comparison on whether I was at a good dentist or not.  If half way through my visit I had detected that I had chosen poorly, I already have a bunch of holes in my mouth, so we pretty much have to go through with this. (For the record, I don't think she did anything to make her a bad dentist, but it's hard to think of her fondly under the circumstances.)

I ended up getting 6 total shots of novacain to fill 3 cavaties in three separate corners of my mouth. As I was getting the 3rd shot in the same spot, it occured to my that it would be a long time before my mouth was behaving properly. I was correct in this prediction. Three hours later, I managed to slurp up some squash soup (no chewing) without getting much on my face before a meeting with my boss. Everyone was very empathetic of my lopsided smile, which was nice.

The dentist and her assistant were very reassuring when I told them I was unfamiliar and nervous about the process. The dentist did make a point to say that if I flossed more regularly, that would really prevent these cavities. I haven't had the best of habits until now, but it seems like flossing is WAY less terrible than getting cavities filled.

Dinner to the Shelter

This week Nana agreed to help me take dinner to the shelter in Redmond. They have recently increased their bed count, so now we take dinner for 20-25 hungry young people, which is bordering on too much. Well, perhaps not too many people, but it requires a lot of planning, and careful choices about menu. And you know who I want on my team when there is a cooking project that requires planning and choices? Nana. This week I decided to go with pulled pork, which is crockpotted in 2 crockpots, baked potatoes and salad. My fatal error was to also deciding to cook an apple crisp.

I picked up Nana at 5, and we got back to my house to start with dinner around 5:30. We figured we'd assemble the crisp, cook it, and then do the potatoes (which I foil wrapped beforehand), so that the potatoes would still be warm at dinner. It's ok to laugh a little at this point- we need to deliver dinner at 8:30, and that stuff is simply not all going to happen in that three hour window. Nana and Matt started slicing apples while I made the top and preheated the oven. The crisp went in the oven around 6:30, and I was already starting to think better of my plan. Instead of turning the oven up (since a crisp can pretty much cook between 350 and 425), I just threw the potatoes in there as well. This will get us to the punchline in about an hour.

Next, we shredded 16 pounds of meat. I was feeling good about this- it was tasty, and for once seemed like plenty of food. At about 7, I nuked up some lasagna and the three of us had a simple dinner. Matt kept bragging to Nana that this was special, I usually forget to feed us on the nights I take dinner to the shelter.

At 7:30, I got up from the table, ready to start thinking about how we would move all this stuff, and wondering why we weren't overwhelmed with the luscious smells out of the oven. Picture this, I have a 15x11x4 foil pan brimming with apple crisp on the bottom rack, surrounded by foil wrapped potatoes on all sides, and above that is a tray of more foil wrapped potatoes, which is also surrounded by potatoes. (Dinner for 25, right?) The edges of the crisp seemed bubbly but the middle was... still crisp. Gulp. I figured, if the potatoes were done, I would just pull them out of the way and the heat would get more even in the oven. Worse news, the potatoes are also crisp. My eyes are getting bulgy now.

There is a moment, usually about 7:30, when we are planning to take dinner to the shelter and I think, "Nevermind. This won't work. Is it too late to cancel?" This was that moment.

Nana breezes in to the kitchen and says, "Hm, why don't you turn up the oven? And can you nuke those potatoes?" and then she goes on to cleaning up from all the dinner and cooking. Yes and Yes!  By this point Matt has looked up a real recipe for making baked potatoes (1hr at 425), and we crank up the heat. He starts pulling potatoes out of their foil jackets in pairs and throwing them in the microwave for a couple minutes at a time, then rewrapping them. Matt is watching the clock like a hawk, but I'm confident that dinner can be served eventually. I start loading up the car. Juice. Buns. BBQ sauce. Butter and sour cream. Lasagna pan full of pork. Salad. The longer the potatoes have been in the oven, the less nuking they need. The crisp is starting to soften and smell lovely. We get the last soft potato in the car and hurtle down to Redmond to serve.

I'm feeling grateful that I can afford to donate dinner, and that I have family to support me in the effort, but still a little bashful that we might be a couple minutes late and a fair bit frazzled. When we arrive, the shelter is dark. For one second, I wonder if I misread the calendar, but no, homeless shelters don't take days off. Turns out, we aren't the only ones feeling flustered tonight, the key has gone missing, and the staff are waiting for someone to let them in.

As we wait patiently, more people start hanging out in this dark parking lot, and I'm feeling really glad that we have a trunk full of tasty food to share. Once the door is open, we breeze in like this is no big deal, unpacking and delivering while the now flustered staff and trying to recover from their shortened prep time as well. By the time we left, it seemed like a huge crowd was waiting outside. Several of the guests thanked us for bringing dinner, and we slinked back to out nice warm homes. The next day I got an email that they had more people than beds that night, but they were able to offer dinner, even seconds, to everyone who was there that night.

Tiny Little Home Projects

This weekend was a pretty abysmal downpour, and since none of our friends were up for much adventure, we somehow found ourselves making a list of things to get from the hardware store. I should have known that "stuff we got at the hardware store" would quickly convert into "projects that Matt finished." Nothing major, nothing you could get a bid for, or would go to a homeshow about, or would even register at Mom and Dad's house as an update. But it's kinda a big deal at our house.

Here, I present the finished products. (Note, I did help a bit, but some of this stuff really only needs one motivated pair of hands.)

Project 1: Our bathroom sink is crowded.

 We have nice enough bathroom in the master bedroom, the lights and mirrors (both over the sink and on the closet door behind) make it bright in there. But the big mirror behind the sink is just that. Just a mirror, no medicine cabinet.

Fig 1. Bathroom Before picture. Notice the stuff on the counter, and the lame two handled sink.

Sure, there is places for bathroom stuff in the closet behind there, but I don't like digging in the closet everytime I put lotion on my face. Or brush my teeth. Or need an antacid. Or most anything, according to figure 1, since I leave all that stuff out on the counter.

Ever the engineer, Matt suggested we install a medicine cabinet. We went back and forth on what that might require, and finally landed on a  small cabinet that would mount above the outlets (fig 2). It was pretty easy to install, and even easier to fill up.

Project 2: Two handled sinks make temperature control annoying.

We actually have two major needs for our bathroom sink.
1) Typical hand/face/teeth washing behavoir.
2) Leaving a slow drip for the cat to drink from.

Our two handle sink was lame at both. It's a major event to get the temprature right with the two handles. And the handles were wobbly, which made adjusting to a drip a hassle, both for the human adjusting and the feline anxiously waiting a drink.

Fig 2. Sitting beneath a glamorous medicine cabinet, the cat waits impatiently for a drink from the new faucet.

The solution was a new, single handled faucet. In brushed nickel, since that shows fewer smudges. The cat is reasonably impressed.

Project 3: This kitchen outlet is hideous.

We had rationalized that this outlet, and the GIANT security box that sat next to it, were part of the home security system, which necessitated some rewiring (fig 3). However, that has been removed, and let's be honest, what it left is pretty shoddy. I was never going to think much of it, but that's because I don't relish making things tidy (especially if that thing is the kitchen, apparently. I can't change who I am.)

Fig 3. Probably not live wires sticking out of this kitchen outlet. Right?

And let's just discuss that motion detector switch- it should turn on the light (Project 4) in the kitchen. When left on auto, it sometimes turns on the middle of the night to notify us that the cat is on the counter, but otherwise fails to turn on when we are flailing in the dark trying to walk across the kitchen without tripping on the above cat. Instead, Matt installed a new switch, a new outlet, and safely tucked away the remaining electrical mysteries. He also covered the gaping hole that was left by the security system.

Fig 4. A tidy outlet and switch combo with hardly any possibility of electrocution.

Project 4: This kitchen light is so terrible we never use it.

Partly because of the weirdness of the outlet, partly because the other lights in the kitchen are sufficient, and mostly because this canister light just was sucky, we never used it. Matt managed to get it arranged to direct light in relevant places, but it didn't hold that position well, so the canisters would sometimes focus beams of light in the cabinet.

Fig 5. The terrible canister light balanced so that it projects light two directions. Not quite the directions you'd want, but near as it gets. Also note the gaping hole below the counter, resolved in Project 3.

It's also pretty dated looking. It took a little time to find a light arrangement that we thought would improve this space. We ended up with a track-ish light (each bulb can be redirected, but the distance between them is set). These lights highlight the one workspace that isn't adequately illuminated by the other box fluorescent. And it doesn't look dated. And with the new switch, I will probably actually use it.

Fig 6. Vastly superior kitchen light, in a well lit kitchen.

 Matt has once again proven himself to be a handy guy around the house. The faucet install included a new drain plunger, which escalated to replacing other janky looking gaskets to prevent future leaks. When I asked him where he learned about plumbing, he said, "Learned about plumbing? It's not rocket science..." Putting tubes together so they don't leak seems pretty magical to me. You can assume his attitude about electrics is similar.

The bonus of these projects (to him) is that he got a new set of drill bits, and revealed that he needs a new electric drill. (His chuck is maybe bent?) I (or Dad) can get this for his next gift exchange holiday. I'm confident leaving this note here, since he never reads the blog.

Also, we got our first postcard from Japan! Remember back when Dad didn't get to see the Seahwaks win the Superbowl? That's when he sent us a card from Mt Fuji.

Nana Stories

One of the neat things about having Nana nearby is that I get to hear stories from her. Not just the major, life changing stories, like how she met Papa, or what it was like to have kids in Juneau's early days, but normal stories.  I wanted to capture a few of them here for my siblings/ nephew and niece.

Last weekend over dinner I was talking about reading the Monuments Men (about the effort to save art, artifacts and monuments during WWII), and I confessed that I know embarrassingly little about world history. Did you know that Germany tried to invade Russia? Which is why Russia ended up in the war? And that we weren't exactly on the same side? Matt and I bemoaned that Juneau schools never seemed to take history very seriously, so now we are just ignorant adults. Nana said she also didn't get much world history. In high school she was on the annual commitee (yearbook), and she has this very sweet, very dull world history teacher. Should would just come in the class, flash him a smile and say, "I have to work on some things for the annual. Can I do the assignment next week?" and he would let her out of class. Pretty much all year. Seriously. I never pegged Nana for ditching class.

Earlier this week, we were talking about hot water heaters, and Nana reminisced about how when she was growing up, their hot water tank was basically uninsulated, so you could feel on the site how much and how hot the water was. (I assume Nana's Mom had impervious hands as well.) Nana said her mom always seemed to have infinite energy. I have heard he describe the garden that kept the family fed all year, especially when beans, fruits or other things were ready for canning. Because it was a large garden, there were huge spurts of urgency where Grandma Sandlin would have both Nana and Auntie Jeanne in the kitchen, canning for hours. Nana said she could see out the window that it was blue skies and sunny, but she was always caught in the sweltering kitchen heat. And at the end of a major canning effort, her every energetic mother would pat the hot water heater and say, "Come on girls, we still have enough hot water to do a load of laundry." I thought of how ambivalent I can feel about laundry when I'm tired, and then she told me how they DID laundry: manually. They would fill up two tubs, one with soap and a rinse that they would run it through a ringer, and they drop it into the second rinse, with "bluing" and then ring that out, and then hang it all out to dry in the sun. Just hearing that makes me want to flop into a frazzled domestic mess, but she said her mom never wanted her dad to see how much work it was. He liked to see her looking calm and relaxed when he came home from work, so she always made time to clean up from all these things, including scrubbing the floor, brushing her hair and changing her apron so that when her dad got home things were calm and quiet. I asked if she was ever able to achieve that standard with her own kids, and she just laughed.

We had planned to see her and Jerry this week to have dinner and go to the movie Saving Mr. Banks. Due to my poor planning (oh, the movie starts when?) and our general lack of urgency, we missed the movie, but it was nice to have dinner with Nana and Jerry. Just like "old times" before the folks moved here.

Oh, and I feel like bragging. As I mentioned we had a really great time at MOHAI a couple weeks ago, and when I mentioned this to Nana and Jerry, they thought it sounded cool, too. So cool, in fact, that they got one of the buses to take a load of people down there for the day. And they ALSO enjoyed it a lot.

Matt has been busy this week. He gave a talk on Friday, and is gearing up for the mountain bike race series. This means making changes and updates to the bike, that seemed to involved new wheels, and new cables, and many hours in the garage. He really enjoys that.