Not Quite End of the Week Rant

So I decide to go for a walk on this lovely spring day this afternoon.  I admire the blooming rhododendron, lilacs, and other stuff in bloom.  I'm happy that my 24 hour Claritin D worked this morning and I don't actually have a heavy cold.  All is right with the world. And then I get back to the Library.

On the front walk is a young man with a clipboard.  His friend, a young woman, also with a clipboard, is on the grass of the Library. Both are earnestly promoting their petition, trying to get signatures.  I don't know what the petition is, but I politely (really) go up to the young man and say, 'You probably don't know the rule, but you can't be on Library property with a petition.  You can stand on the Town sidewalk if you wish.'

"According to the Secretary of State, I can petition on any public property."  [Yeah, Kid, try that on the steps of Town Hall.]

"This is not public property, it's owned by the Corporation of the Jones Library, Inc."

"Call the Secretary of State ... I can ... wah, wah, wah ..."

"I will express your feelings to the Director."  I walk over to the young girl and say, "You probably don't know this, but you cannot be on Library property with your petition."

"Can I be on the sidewalk?"  "Absolutely.  You can be on the Town sidewalk, just not on the Library property.  And, by the way (looking at her empty coffee cup laying on its side on the grass), we have a trash barrel right over there."

"And just so you know," said the jobless self important young female, "most libraries are welcoming places for people to learn and express opinions."

"Thank you for telling me that," I said as I take a deep breath.  Since I have been at the freakin' Library since before she was born, I did not feel the need to debate her obviously newly acquired information about the mission of public libraries.

"You learn something new every day, " said the young man who at this point is beginning to look like something that should be sprayed down with Lysol. 

I go in and report the exchange to the Director and she goes to see if they have moved when the aforementioned young man walks in.  I introduce him to the Director.  He does not offer a name but proceeds to say multiple times, 'Call the Secretary of State, I can do whatever ...'  The Director, to her credit remains calm and says she's not going to call anyone.  She knows the law and knows that it is there to protect Library patrons, some of whom may disagree with his petition.  

(I forgot to mention that these two earnest young things had formed a gauntlet at the front door that patrons had to go through, which is not welcoming in our opinion.  When my friend and I left the Library to go for a walk, they saw our name tags and did not approach, clever beings that they are.)

So the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time he goes into his 'Call the Secy. of State, there is case law ...' dance, my boss says, "I have been a Library Director for over 20 years and I know the law.  You need to stand on the sidewalk.  Have anyone you want call the Library Director and I'll be happy to speak with them."

He left still proclaiming his 'right.'  I sure hope he gets stopped for speeding.  Wonder how that self righteous blather would sit with a cop.  Better yet, it should be a State Cop.

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So, tonight, I answered.  Every night for the past five nights, I have received a call which registers an 877 number with the words "Local Call" on my caller i.d.  And I know what it is. It's someone's campaign trying to get me to vote for them.  

In a fit of "I must be freaking crazy," I became a local delegate for the state Democratic Committee.  June 13 is the beginning of the state convention where we delegates will choose which Democrat will run for Governor (and the Atty. Gen. and others).

So for the past five nights, I have ignored that call.  Last night, they called twice and the second call was at quarter to 9 -- too late in my opinion.  Of course I was up, but I was heavily into watching "Sherlock" on Netflix.  

Tonight, I answer.  And the voice says they are calling me as a delegate to the Democratic Convention. (No shit! I thought you wanted a date.)  Now, he doesn't identify his affiliation but launches right into, 'Who are you going to vote for, Grossman ...,' and he lists the myriad of candidates.  THIS really burns me up.

"I do not want to answer your survey.  And your company has called me every night for the last five nights. I had thought you would have gotten the idea that I did not want to talk to you from the fact that I did not answer all of those times!"

Do you know what his answer was?  "We're not a company."  Unexpectedly, my phone went dead.

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Even chocolate ganache cannot make a gluten free doughnut good, in my opinion.  The texture isn't right.

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So the guy who tried to throw me under the bus for his mistake a couple of weeks ago tried it again today. He told me to do something that I know would have resulted in a fubar situation that could potentially cost the Library a lot of money.  Ha ha.  I dumped it in my boss' lap. I'm thinking he might stop underestimating me soon.  It's cold comfort because he makes a lot more money than I do while blaming people such as myself for his mistakes and lack of doing what he should do.  That's o.k.  I'm patient.

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Emily, my younger daughter, just found out she's getting a 19% raise because they are moving some people from Boston into the new lab building and the company doesn't want a mass exodus from the Worcester people to the higher paid Boston people's lab.  Let's hear it for pay equality!  Yay!
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I go now.  Supper is ready. :)

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I'm back after three episodes of "Luther" from PBS.  I love it, but it sure is scary at times.

So about Pinterest: why is it that people think they are so freakin' creative when they sprinkle cheese on a tomato slice?  AND they have to share it with me because, obviously, I couldn't figure this out.  I'm thinking it was their Moms who thought rolled up bologna with a cheese hunk was so sophisticated.

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It's happening again -- the letters are wearing off my computer keys.  The "n" is incognito.  I think it's my acid personality.  Anyway, it reminds me of the time my friend sat down to my computer (the old one).  Pretty soon, he's swearing up a blue streak.  I ask him what's wrong and he said, "I can't see what the keys say!!"  He was really ticked off because he's a hunt and peck man.  I laughed because it doesn't bother me.  The only things I can't touch type are the numbers and those don't wear out so I can see what I'm looking for.

Simply Saturday

True to his word, Miguel showed up at 8:40 a.m.  We had had torrential rains last night so my over the calf garden boots squished as we walked to the back yard.  Here's what poor Miguel saw:

Two Beds and More Before

By 10 a.m., this is what Miguel had accomplished with his trusty pick axe. This included putting together the raised bed kit.  That soil (with landscaping cloth underneath) is 12 cubic feet (12 bags weighing about 40 pounds each).

After Miguel's Hard Work

I am so happy with the results.  I wasn't much help because I had hefted 3 bags of soil onto the yellow plastic Little Tykes wagon that is now about 30 years old.  My back told me to not do that again.  I did a lot of bending to bring the weeds to the composter.

In the past, I have failed at compost.  No more.  That is "dry" that you see on top from last year.  It lived on the ground under the lawn cart to the left of the composter.  Most of it is filled with the green from today's efforts.  And I dumped some compost helper onto it and stirred.  I have no idea what compost helper is and I don't think I want to know but it almost looks like rice-like pods of graham crackers.

After that I was pretty pooped but made coffee -- COFFEE!!! -- I couldn't believe I was functioning.  Did a bunch of dishes, played some computer games.  Gave Ann a call and she came over.

Neither of us had had lunch so I made penne pasta with pesto (store bought) and shrimps.  On the side, I made hot chicken Italian sausage with onions and mushrooms.  The shrimp and sausage had been frozen and I had the pasta.  Not bad for someone who didn't shop!  Of course, after chatting ourselves out, we had to go to Flayvors (Cook Farm, Hadley) to get ice cream.  I had cow spot ice cream which has lovely small chocolate disks filled with peanut butter and Sally's coffee grounds which is coffee ice cream with very fine chocolate cookies making the "grounds."  We had fun watching the chickens wander around but we didn't visit The Girls.  I don't know if you know what a cow farm in spring smells like, but the ice cream stand was close enough.  

I had been kind of embarrassed for Ann to see my place.  The lawn mower guy hadn't come since Mothers' day and it looked like an abandoned house with high grass and even higher dandelions gone to seed.  But when we got back from Cook Farm, I was delighted to see that Lawn Mower Guy had come and gone!

The poor guy next door is still mowing his lawn with a motorized push mower.  He goes BRRR BRRR BRRR BRRR for about 20 to 30 seconds and then it dies because it is so clogged with wet grass.  Can you say annoying noise?  But I am so tired on his behalf (I think he's only 30 something) that I can put up with the noise for a while.

When I took the picture of the new beds in back, I had to bring the wagon back and I stopped at the lilacs to the left of the garage as you face the house.  This year is weird -- I thought all of the purple double lilacs had left.  But no, I saw one (count 'em one) clump of purple.  You will have to look really hard to the left.

See it on the far left.  It's way too high for me to cut and (obviously) difficult to see.  That's o.k., the lilacs have increased my allergy misery threefold.  They remind me of some people: I like them a lot, but after a while they are really irritating.

Here's a shot of the (single) white lilacs which have taken over.  Yet another instance of the whites bullying the neighbors of color.

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Now that I am "House of Cards" -less, I have just watched my first episode of "Orange Is the New Black."  That's definitely a must watch series.  But, wow!  I may never get my laundry done at this rate.

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It's time to go put my camera batteries in the recharger.  I know, I know: will the excitement never cease?  I also have to decide whether to finish the Evanovich book or to watch more Netflix.  (Yes, I actually read.)  

In fact, reading caused me to Google the definition of "schadenfreud."  For the life of me, I can't figure out how to work that into a conversation -- especially since I'm alone.  Not so sure it will fly after church tomorrow.  I'll bet Emily will like it.  She's coming tomorrow and we're going to see the new "X Men."

I also may take a bath in linament.  Wait a minute.  I don't know what linament actually is.  But it sounds like it will fix my aching muscles.  Ciao. I'm off to Google.

Falcons Are Us

In 1989, peregrine falcons built a nest outside of the 21st floor at Monarch Place in Springfield.  Now there are 4 chicks.  Over the years, the falcons have produced more than 30 offspring. 

According to the Channel 3 (Springfield, MA) web site: "A nesting box was permanently attached to the side of the building to safeguard the eggs and falcons.

The 21st floor is occupied by Bank of America, but they were willing to set aside one office entirely for the falcons so they are not disturbed."  

Can't you just picture it?  A BOA supervisor speaking to an employee he's not to fond of:  "O.k., Harris, we're having a bit of a space crunch so we're giving you a roommate.  Actually, it's more than one.  We're moving you to the office with the peregrine falcons.  You don't faint at the sight of blood do you? These raptors eat a lot and they do a heck of a good job keeping the in-house mice down.  The techies coming in to adjust the camera shouldn't be much of a bother.  Oh yeah, they will be bringing back the chick they had to take out for medical assistance tomorrow.  The parents might be a tad upset, so we've issued you this leather face mask and gloves."

You can see the Falcon Cam at the link below:
http://www.cbs3springfield.com/category/263498/cbs-3-falcon-cam

Needless to say, you need to look when it's daylight (Eastern time). Why did I say it then (if it's needless)?  Because I'm a dufus who tried to see it at night.  The car lights were interesting ...

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A couple of days ago, our very nice copier technician came and eliminated the unwanted pink stripes from our copies.  In the process, he created a plastic bag o' crap, a.k.a. extra toner in a reservoir.  He carefully put the unrecyclable toner bag into a cardboard box from the new part he had installed.  Then he put it in the trash outside of the office.  A couple of hours later, a check out desk person brought said box back into the office saying, "A patron thinks you might need this."  Well, duh.  The patron (who is 'known to us' for always giving "helpful" suggestions) had taken it out of the trash.

We do recycle the toner when one of the colors runs out. But this was waste.  What puzzles me is why the staff person might think we need something from the trash.

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Today, that same patron came into the Office when I was alone, subbing for the Receptionist.  I could hear my phone ringing.  She was carrying a cardboard turkey. It soon became obvious that she wanted "the Library" to call those people who put up the display of children's artwork in the atrium.  She wanted us to tell them that they should put the real age of the artist on the works because "it's and insult to them -- the sign says ages 4 to 8."  I wondered how much of the exhibit she had dismantled after I saw the turkey.

"I don't think they would appreciate your taking apart their exhibit," I observed calmly.  Then she turned ugly, hissing, "I only brought it in to show you."  At that point, I was yessing her to death as I herded her out of the door.  I was in no mood for diatribes.  We have already heard her wax for 20 minutes on the bathroom cleaners we should use ...

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Another time suck that I enjoy is Pinterest.  I don't actually pin things, but I do enjoy reading some of the funny ones.  My latest fave:  If it looks like I'm staring off into space when you're talking to me, it's because I'm staring off into space when you are talking to me.

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At a meeting the other day, I heard someone say, 'But they are in the weeds, not seeing the overarching picture.'  I just stared at the woman who was deriding the only people on that project who were producing.  People such as herself who may (or may not) have been able to perceive "the big picture" were not getting the work done -- it was those 'in the weeds.'  To me, this phrase is akin to 'down in the trenches' and I'm pretty proud to be in that category.  We are the ones pushing the work product out the door.  We actually get things done as opposed to talking about what needs to be done.  O.k., I think I'm done with that rant.

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I went to Home Depot after work and so did everybody else.  The garden shop was a zoo. But I did manage to get a raised bed kit, landscaping cloth and 12 bags of garden soil (one cu. ft. each).  The cashier had made a mistake and charged me for 18 bags.  Meanwhile, Jose and Manuel were loading the stuff into my car and when Manuel said, "She's gonna blow her tires with the weight," I decided to take only the 12 I had wanted and get a credit for the cashier's goof.  

Tomorrow, "early," Miguel is coming to dig up the weeds.  He's bringing a pick axe because he knows it's clay soil. I tried to rent a small rototiller (such as a mantis) and the only one I could find was a 200 pound rental.  I figured that would be a bit much for Miguel to heft.  Anyway, knowing how hard it was to dig out a tiny square, I'm thinking maybe the landscape cloth will come in handy.  He might not have to dig so much.  I'll let you know if I actually come up with something plantable.

I'm going to hold off until Monday to plant anything.  Tonight we had about 2 to 3 inches of rain.  The downpour caused a lot of flooding, especially under bridges in Springfield and Chicopee.  It's supposed to rain again tomorrow.  It also has been in the 50's but is supposed to go to 80 on Monday. I'll wait to plant. I can be patient.

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Gorgeous Sunny Saturday

After rain most of yesterday, and torrential rains overnight, it is sunny and in the 70's.  I went out to the back garden, squishing through the grass.  The weed cover is so dense I only manged to clear about a 2 x 2 foot square.  Then I went around to the front, which is in full sun (except under the ornamental crab apple tree).

Every time I managed to get up a dandelion -- root and all -- I thought of it as tossing one more problem on the rubbish heap.  I cleared a lot of tall grass up against the house and it was around then that the sweat got into my eyes.  I hate that.  Of course, you can't wipe your face with your muddy gloves, but from experience, I know that I have to wear two pair of gloves.  I either use disposable food handling gloves or, today, my under gloves have rubberized palms and are reusable.  I do this because I hate it when the soil stains my nails!

Speaking of a pair of gloves: I am so annoyed with ads that offer me two pairs of something.  Don't they know that it's a pair? Obviously, they don't, but I wonder how much these illiterates are getting paid to write this ad copy.

It tickles me that I'm NOT the demographic marketers are targeting when, in reality, I probably have a lot more disposable income than a 20 something.  That 20 something has student loans, a car loan, rent, etc. Oh well, I guess it is true that I need to get out more if my amusement is spotting grammatical errors in online ads.

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I am totally hooked on "House of Cards."  I've been watching it on Netflix on my computer, which is not very comfortable.  But my friend's husband, the Computer Whiz, couldn't figure out how to get Netflix to my TV and also be able to switch back to "regular TV."  He rigged something with an XBox to their TV.  It seems to be the incompatibility between the Internet (PC) and the TV cable.  My other friend who got me hooked on Netflix has a dedicated Apple TV.  Sheesh.  Emily said she'd try to walk me through it over the phone, but my brain has melted in the sun so that will have to wait until later.

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So I went to see "Harvey Allen, A Living Pioneer Valley Icon" at the Library today.  If you Google Harvey Allen, you can see the movie too.  It was great and Harvey was in the audience.  He goes to the South Amherst Congregational Church which is where I met him.  He's a very nice man who does lots of the cooking for the huge (3 seatings) church suppers.  The next one coming up is asparagus, chicken salad, strawberry shortcake.  His trick is to put some stems in the bowl (it's served family style), then some asparagus tips, then LOTS of butter.  It's yummy.  (He says the tips cook quicker, so he cooks them separately.)  He worked in food service for many years in various places.  But now he's really into conservation.  Check out the movie if you get a chance.

French Lilac to the Left of the Main Library Door

Flowering Dogwood to the Left of the Main Library Door

Wednesday Musings

So I admit it: I have to take Omerpratzole daily.  No, I don't know how to say it. It keeps away the killer heartburn that puts holes in my espophagus.  I can go for two or three days without it, but then I get the burning in my throat.

So this morning, before jumping into the car to go to work, I realized I needed to open that bottle that I had bought yesterday.  I finally wrestle off the child proof top only to find my favorite foil seal.  Thank you, chemical makers, for protecting me from crazed poisoners.  However, give me my stuff!! I struggled for a while as there is no tab.  I have finger nails -- which wouldn't get under the foil.  Finally, in desperation, I grabbed a toothbrush and stabbed the damned thing.  

It's also impossible for me to open most everything that you buy at a supermarket.  Do they really need to package luncheon meat so that you need to use a machete to get to it?  All I want is a turkey sandwich she whined. 

How about ring tabs on tuna fish or soft drinks?  Isn't it fun when they break off?  Ever try to use a can opener on a can of seltzer? It's not a pretty sight.

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Speaking of pretty sights:

The Route 9 Diner

The tree! I mean the tree is pretty!

So far we have gone from 85 F on Monday to 65 F today.  Of course, I like it a bit cooler, but I'm so happy spring is here.

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I am happy to say that after about 4 years of nothing, my indoor peace lily is about to bloom. I am amazed.  At work, one of the indoor plants on Lisa's desk has a new bud.  None of us has ever seen that type of plant bloom.  Looking at the bud, there is a yellow center tightly wrapped in a cream bud.  I said to Lisa, "That yellow center must be the stamen and it's big; that's one sexy plant!"  Lisa looked right at me and said, "You need to get out more!"

I guess she's right.  But I did go to see Capt. America last weekend.  My review: Bam! Pow! Zap!  I'm sure 13 year old boys love it.

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I've only read a few pages in Botched Executions by Austin Sarat (President of the Jones Library Board of Trustees).  It's interesting in a gruesome sort of way.  I don't understand how state sanctioned executions are different from other types of killing.  But I guess the reasoning is, "He needed killing."  To me, life in prison with no parole (and no frills like college courses, visits, TV, etc.) would be much worse.  When I expressed this view, a friend said, 'What about redemption?'  I think, fine, let them regret their evil ways, but I think they should stay in jail.

I also can't figure out why people would want to go to a public execution. (We don't do that any more, but there are witnesses.)  Is it a communal blood lust?  I read that people from miles around would travel to see public executions.  Why?  It certainly couldn't have been too much time on their hands -- this was prior to the 1930s when everything took time and lots of labor.

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Okay, I can see you all yawning. I'm going to bed.  That is if I can get the cap off the ibuprofen.

Palm Springs Flowers Redux

Aptos, California purple fuzzy flowers (above)

Okay, but these are some of my favorite mountains even if they aren't flowers.

Santa Cruz Beach Poppies

While waiting for Mom at a store.

Yankee Candle Yesterday (Same Saturday as Before)

Yup, this is one of the MANY interior rooms at Yankee Candle (the mother ship of them all).  Guess what scent the candles are?  Bacon.  Honest, they are bacon scented candles.  They have all kinds of dried foods and canned foods in the next room which is "the kitchen."

This was a new shape to me.  It looks like a 10 ounce water glass (with a candle in it).

This is their main collection of "tarts."  They are votive size but sort of star shaped and flatter.  I think there are two more aisles.  I didn't look to see if they have the traditional votive shape (small cylinder), but that used to be all of the small ones.  They were in peach baskets.

I took this one so you could see the carriers (blue) on the left.  It's almost like an egg carton -- but I think they hold 18.  Anyway, how many scents are there?  Who knows? I don't think Yankee Candle knows.  But they do indeed have "Beach Grass" and "Clean Linen"  I hope that's not as opposed to "Dirty Linen."  The ones that smell like "Cookie Dough" and "Brownies" and "Vanilla Cupcakes" really do smell like those things. But they make me hungry.  (I don't buy candles because the scents make my eyes water and I don't like smoke.)

There's no rest for Santa.  Here he is, working his shift.  I wonder if those elves have unionized -- there was not an elf to be seen!

The place is so big that they have to keep reminding you where you are.  Hence, "Yankee Candle Home" sign.  When it was time to leave, Rod led us to the exit.  "He's just following the exit signs," Ann said.  She wasn't amused when I pointed out that the room we were in had four exit signs on four different doorways.  (The place is BIG, I tell ya!)

The long tables were set up for some kind of craft.  I think this is the Barvarian Forest.  You think I'm kidding? The room that enters this snows every four minutes.  (There are LOTS of Christmas ornaments of every design there too.)

This is normally where Santa hangs out.

Ann checking out the clock

I think the witch threw a fireball at Rod, but he appeared to be o.k. after the encounter.

Of course, all of these photos are just the tip of the ice berg.  I was pretty tired at this point, having gone to the artists' demonstrations before this.  So after walking miles to the exit, we treated ourselves to lunch at an outdoor picnic table at the Sunderland (Mass.) Frostee.  It opened May 1 as it has for years and years.  Rod reported that the shakes are just as good as ever and Ann and I enjoyed our Long Dogs.  (Maybe some smart alec pointed out that they are not exactly 12 inches long because they don't call them "Foot Long Hot Dogs" any more.)  I was very impressed with the high school girl's addition: she did it by hand.  Look, Ma, no calculator!!

Yesterday Was a Good Saturday

Yesterday, Ann and her husband Rod, accompanied me to the ARTery show (put on by Western Mass. Artisans) at the Yankee Candle Employees' gym (well, former gym at least).  The point was to demonstrate process.

 Above (bottom, left) you can see my favorite purple cow.  These are quilts with much "stitchery painting" by Betzi Sylvan.

Here is Betzi (above and below) showing art enthusiasts how she places tiny pieces of fabric while creating a piece.  Lately, she has been using the gold foil from chocolate coins for the "sun" in her compositions.  Her son gets to eat the chocolate and she recycles the foil!

These earrings are not only veggies, but also crafted from glass!  Apparently, my other pictures of her work did not come out.  I was so entranced, I bought a "ball" that contains an ocean vortex.  (I'm trying to figure out how to get a picture that does it justice.)

(Above and below)  These journal covers are made from recycled jeans and other fabrics.  They fit the old fashioned black and white composition book and can be used on another book when you fill the first one.  The artist's daughter was there busily drawing manga in one of the composition books.  The kid's talented.

Here's a long shot of one side of the room (there was a center aisle as well).

How cute -- and labor intensive -- are these?! The woman said it wasn't hard to sew the baby shoes because, 'You punch the holes first.'  I'm guessing using what looked like a paper punch on leather is not easy.  (Maybe it was a leather punch, but it still didn't look easy.)

 Below are Tamia Designs which are all folded paper (earrings, boxes, dodads, etc.)

Fabric crazy quilt bracelets, headbands from Frisky.

Frisky work is below.

This chair fascinated me.  The woman paints the canvas for the seat, then embroidered the flowers.

A beautiful Frisky composition.  The colors are paint on canvas; the wave design is hand embroidered.  Not easy to do -- much more hand strength needed than hand quilting.  She uses titanium needles.  (I have no idea what that means; maybe it pierces canvas better.)

This water colorist (above) was working on an incredibly detailed painting which looked to be about two feet wide by three feet long.  Really.  I'm guessing that will take her at least a month to finish.

 Below you see the beginning of a place mat.  The artist also made really handsome floor coverings.  She begins by shrinking the canvas and painting Kilz all over.  Then she hand paints her design and coats it with four coats of polyurethane when done.  Of course, I have left out many hours of drying, painting, labor, and deciding if the edge will be hemmed or not ...

Ah ... back to my favorite: glass.   

 Above, you see the beginning of stencil painting on hand dyed silk.

The next five pictures are Lou's Upcycled goods.  She is literally making a purse or bag from potato chip bags, and other normally discarded snack food bags.  You can probably tell, I'm a big fan of her work, but I don't really NEED any of these items.  Maybe for gifts?

The lady with the baskets offered to let me make a basket, but I figure I'll save my basket weaving for when I am actually retired.

Amy Love puts beads around a stone.  Really!  (There's a piece of felt bigger than the stone that the strung beads sit on.)

So that's it for the ARTery.  Next, we were off across the parking lot to the Yankee Candle mother ship.  That's going to have to be another post because I've got other things that need doing right now ...