Last Night on Friday

I had my first summer shandy at the Harp  (Irish Pub)! I have no idea what a shandy is, but it was yummy with a light citrus flavor.  It was a Narragansett summer shandy.  

From Wikipedia:
A shandy is beer mixed with a soft 

drink, carbonated lemonade, ginger beer, ginger ale, 

or apple juice. The proportions of the two ingredients are 

adjusted to taste, usually half-and-half. Nonalcoholic 

shandies are known as "rock shandies".


Of course, it was accompanied by the BEST whole belly fried clams I have had in a long time.  Even better than the Clam Box at Wollaston Beach!






Wollaston Beach is part of Quincy, Massachusetts.  And, yes, this is what it really looks like.  Sigh.  I miss walking along that sidewalk.  The Clam Box is to the left, across the street.




So it's still Saturday.  While I was waiting for Miguel, I pulled up enough weeds on the front to fill my lawn cart.  Didn't have the energy to dump them in the back.  Got the new bag of soil out of the trunk and brought it down back -- didn't spread it though.  It's HOT.  It was about 86 today and while it wasn't as humid as in the past, it still felt very hot.

Miguel did an admirable job powerwashing the house.  You use this detergent with the elegant name of Crud Remover.  Poor Miguel had to take the machine apart and clean one of the clogged connections.  After that, I was off to the pharmacy and Famers' Market.

You know I LOVE the Farmers' Market.

Long shot from across the street of the Farmers' Market

House Plants For Sale

Globe Basil -- I had never seen this before.

Liquid Gold.  The woman tried to entice me with maple cream that you spread.  Yum!

Native Strawberries!

This is my friend, Phyllis, during one of the very few times that she is caught sitting at the Sunset Farm booth.

Really, it was the lilies, not the quilt that caught my eye.

Gorgeous Bouquets

Sexy Challots

Yellow Visitors' Booth in Background

I didn't buy a lot, but I do like the red lettuce that I got! To be honest, I don't know how the farmers do it -- it's hard work!  The real maple syrup is my favorite and it's not really expensive when you remember that it takes 30 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup!

After the market, I went to the supermarket to get frozen things.  I can't stand the thought of cooking in the heat!  I may just suck on them frozen and not even microwave them!  After that, it was fill up the gas tank time and then home.

Watched some Netflix, got my hair cut and went to dinner with Phyllis. Now I'm talking with you.  As you can see, this is still the blog about nothing.  But it has been good talking with you! Ciao.

One Minute

This is one minute before I ate the tomatoes!

There are four or five green ones below the ripe two.

So, o.k., I know I'm not the greatest farmer in the world, but it sure is fun to eat tomatoes that you grew!  Mom told me to get them before the birds and I did!  I figure the birds have plenty to eat this time of year.  I just wish I had more bats -- the mosquitoes go nuts eating me every time I go out to the garden.  The darn things think it's a jungle and I don't know why.  After all, the humidity was only 84% today.  Of course the thunderstorm and down pour last night added to the steamy conditions.

See the solar globe at the top right? When I bought it last year, I didn't realize that it changes color.  When it hits green, it's lightning bug green.  Last night, there were a zillion fireflies in the back yard.  Of course, you know, when they blink -- they are looking for love.  So I could see a zillion little thought bubbles over them when the globe went green:  whoooah!  Baby's got game!

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I got a check in the mail for a small portion of the dissertation work that I and others did.  I'm just glad to be done with it.  I learned my lesson: get half upfront.  I think he responded because I sent him a second bill with more hours on it -- and still not the full amount of time we had put into it.  Oh, well.  It's his karma, not mine.

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I was disappointed when I went to pick up my new glasses -- the reading glass part was in the wrong spot.  One woman said, 'That doesn't look too bad.'  

'Yeah, but I can't read,' I interjected, 'That's the whole point.'  Sigh.  The former person who had marked them, had marked them incorrectly.  While I was there I ordered some sunglasses (with bling, of course).  They were only $30 because now they make them with over the counter (non prescription) reading glasses.  Yay!!

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So  my latest series is Longmier.  I have to prepare for the New England Crime Bake in November.  Craig Johnson, author of the Walt Longmier series of books, will be the weekend featured speaker/guest.  And they have added something new: a crime scene for us to parse the forensics.  I can't wait.  I wonder if there will be blood ...

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Time for dinner.  Yay!

Sunny Simple Saturday

Saturday 
How come as soon as I hit the "Open Door" button on the garage door, that's the time my body whispers to me, "I told you 45 minutes ago in the supermarket that you had to go now."?  As you can imagine, this makes it imperative that I exit quickly with the grace of a ballet dancer in order to leave my cloth seats dry.

Mission accomplished but then there is the unloading and stowing of the foodstuff.  I always swear that I won't wait so long to shop, but I didn't and now I have a lot of food to put away.  I have to put it away because I'll need a rest before the marathon.

That's the cooking marathon.  If I buy it, I must cook it on the weekend or it doesn't get cooked.

Well, putting away the perishables was an adventure.  I had thought the bagger (an older gentleman) knew what he was doing.  But, it quickly became obvious to me that he did not see the need to put 'refrigerator stuff' in one or two bags.  So each of the many bags had at least one perishable item.  I say many bags because when I realized that he was packing 25 pound bags to get everything into the recyclable bags, I said, "Not too heavy, please. I have a bad back."  Then he proceeded to put one (count it, one) item in each of four or five plastic bags.  Oh yeah, the bar soap was snuggled up against my splurge cookies.  Sigh.  I wonder if I like soap flavored cookies.

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Break for many episodes of Scandal.  I am addicted and intoxicated by this show.  

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Back.
Currently, there are two quiche with Hadley asparagus in them, some dry rub ribs, and two chicken hot Italian sausages in the oven. I may hull some of the California strawberries to go with my next round of Scandal.  (The watermelon has been divested of its rind and is chilling in the fridge.)  :)

Above is the famous Hadley Asparagus.  The pen is to show you how young and small the stalks are.  They had some white asparagus, but that's just asparagus abuse and wrong!

No, I did not take pictures of the quiche or other food.  Just imagine little pieces of asparagus in the quiche!

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Friday Rollback

Friday after work we had the volunteer party for those who worked on the Sammy awards.  It was fun, particularly since I got to buy a whole Samuel Manhattan.  It's a perfect manhattan aged in a cherry cask and served with a black cherry and a twist of orange.  Yum! It tasted like more, but one was sufficient for a nice buzz while I munched on chicken, beef, or shrimp on a stick.  We had an amiable group at the table so people just loaded up a plate and we all got to enjoy.  Somebody said, "I wonder if there is dessert?" and went to look.  She came back with -- are you ready? -- a stick with a one inch square of thick cut bacon with chocolate on one side of the bacon, topped with a black cherry.  I thought it was more work (and cholesterol) than it was worth.  But someone was creative!

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So here it is Sunday.  I have continued my Scandal marathon to ridiculous heights.  Finally, I shut off Netflix and went outside.

Can you see the flower on the pepper? I am excited.

We have tomatoes!  They are cherry tomatoes and a bit hard to see, but they are there!

After spreading some more marsh grass, I got out the hedge clippers.  Everything is pretty well trimmed, but by the time I got done, I didn't have any more oomph to pick up the branches and twigs.  Another day perhaps.  I'm hoping it will rain, otherwise I'm going to have to water and that means hooking up the hose.  (I unhooked it so my lawn mowing guy wouldn't run over it.)

I did want to see the peonies though -- almost missed them entirely.

One last bud (above).

I just realized that my glasses are in my garden bag in the garage.  Darn! (I'm using an old pair that I keep behind my computer.)  I went to the eye doc on Thursday for a checkup and he said, "Hellooo, Stranger!"  I didn't realize that it had been 5 years since I had been.  [Insert sheepish face here.]

When I went to get the new lenses, with an old frame, the technician agreed that I should not have the night time coating. I had told her that I can see better at night without my glasses.  My nearsightedness is very little -- it's the reading glasses that I really need.  The technician told me that when light hits the windshield of a car, it diffuses; when it hits the coating on the glasses, it diffuses, and then the lens in the eye, etc.  So I had instinctively hit on the right solution in taking off my glasses when driving at night.  Yehaw!  So much for people who said, "That's impossible!"

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So, no.  No word from the jerk who owes me a lot of money for editing his dissertation.  It turns out, other editors have told me that I shouldn't have felt obligated to do that formatting.  He should have done that or hired someone separately.  So I did not fail.  But I was decidedly taken advantage of.  Next time I hear that someone 'works for the government,' they will have to pay first.

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I am very grateful for how much we have.  I read about a well project and the celebrity connected with the project asked a little girl what the new well in her village meant to her.  She told him she would save three hours a day on fetching water for her family.  What would she do with that extra time? She was going to play.

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It's time for me to hit the shower.  I hope you have a wonderful rest of weekend!  P.S. They liked my ghost writing promoting Don Berwick for governor -- so they gave me more to do! :)

Dissertations, Democrats, and Delicious

Okay, so I took a job to edit a dissertation a week ago.  It had to be done by Friday.  No problem, it was only 100 pages and should, 'only take 2 to 4 hours.'  It's true, my review with grammatical corrections and spelling corrections took four hours.  I was halfway done by Tuesday.  Then I realized that there were 4 pages of formatting fixes that needed to be made which the client hadn't mentioned. Someone had gone through the whole paper and had listed four pages of  the APA style errors.  At that point, I realized that this was going to take a lot longer than I had thought.  

On Thursday night, after struggling with pagination, which kept changing even though I had saved it, I begged the husband of a friend to come and give me a hand.  One would think pagination would be simple.  This guy, who teaches people how to do it, had a struggle, but we finally finished at 11:30 p.m.  So the next day (Friday), I went to look it over one last time before work -- only to find that the pagination had messed up again.  Overnight.  Many of the changes that I had saved on this document had kept undoing themselves.  (How can boldface disappear in only one place? How can it disappear at all?)  It was as if it had been cursed.

So in the end, I had screwed up.  I hadn't realized that I hadn't made all of the changes.  (At this point, I was donating over five hours of work.  I'm ignoring the fact that when I asked questions the first time, I didn't get a response for hours and my window of opportunity for working on the job had passed.)  But I was frantic because ...

On Friday, I was scheduled to be a delegate to the Massachusetts Democratic Convention in Worcester. 6,000 delegates (and 2,000 others also attended) were to pick the Democratic candidates for Governor, Lt. Governor, Attorney General, and Treasurer. The doors opened at 4:00 p.m. and you could pick up your bag and lanyard (and a bottle of water, it turns out) and wait a bit for the uncontested runners to speak.  

I checked my email when I got to the DCU in Worcester and I had received an email from the very unhappy client at 4:45 p.m.  Since I had sent him the job at 7:30 a.m., I had thought that he might have responded sooner.

Anyway, I got that feeling in the pit of my stomach: I have failed.  I didn't even care that he threatened to not pay me -- I didn't like the fact that I had failed. And I was frantic because after Friday night, I was going to be completely unavailable until 8:00 p.m. on Saturday. Of course, the client stressed how critically he needed it within 24 hours (that would make it Saturday).  I just couldn't deal with it then.  I had gone to the DCU to get some issues cleared up because the number one thing stressed during orientation had been, "Don't be late to check in with a teller on Saturday or you cannot vote."  I wasn't going to be denied my vote after having taken vacation time, driven 50 miles, and ... blah, blah, blah.  So I needed to get the lay of the land and I wanted the full convention experience.  (Very few people attend on Friday, but instead they party.  I was being a very good girl.)

I pulled into the parking garage ($5 all day) and, as I had been told with my delegate instructions, I had my handicapped placard ready.

"How close to the entrance can I get?" I asked the parking attendant.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"You still have to walk outside," he said as he put the ticket on my dashboard.
"Is there any other garage that connects directly to the DCU?"  (Is it unreasonable to think that there is a connecting tunnel?)
"You want to leave? This isn't just for you -- it's for everybody." 

 After thanking him for being so sweet (insert sarcastic font here), I left and had to go up to level 3.  There was a handicapped space next to the elevator, luckily.  Also, luckily, there was a sign at the elevator to TAKE YOUR TICKET with you.  Normally, you pay before you leave; however, the ticket did get me $2.50 off my bill at Mezcal.

You have to cross the street diagonally to get to the DCU and there were so many campaign workers holding signs, it was difficult to get to the curb to wait for the light.  (Did I mention it was raining buckets?)

At that point, I still didn't know where I would be sitting and I was worried about too many stairs.  I was very glad to have my cane because those long corridor walks, which are easy for most people, are very painful for me.  

Finally, I get in and walk the long corridor and I go to the table staffed with fresh bright-faced young people that has a sign "Access Issues."  Or something like that.  I can see headphones and wheelchairs, and maybe a couple of walkers.  So I say, "I have trouble climbing stairs and I don't know where I'll be sitting.  Is there an elevator?"

"Do you need a wheelchair?"
"No, I can walk. Is there an elevator?"
"So you don't want a wheelchair?"  Her friend says, "She needs an elevator."
"How do I find out where I'm assigned to sit?"
"You need to go to guest services."

I go to guest services and remember my other question.  "Will you allow me to bring a carry on bag?" I figure I can put my wallet, sweater, Kindle, camera, and net book in it and have an easier time pulling the case. I ask the cleanly scrubbed young man at the table.

"I don't know.  I'd have to ask someone like my supervisor."
"Could you do that?"
"No, she's not here.  Oh, wait.  She's over there." He points in the distance.
"Could you go over there and ask her because I have some mobility issues."  

Understand that at this point, I'm an early bird and the six (yes, count 'em, six) people at that table are doing nothing.  They are waiting for the non-credentialed people in order to register them.  The supervisor shows up and she says, "I think so, but I can't say definitely.  But I don't really think they would turn you away."


Toward the end of the evening, I  called Emily and suggested that she cab over and meet me when the convention session was over and we would eat a bite at Mezcal before the after party hosted by the Democratic Party.  Mezcal is across the street from the DCU. The food was wonderful and we had shredded short rib stuffed masa corn cakes, spicy mole negro sauce, crumbled bleu cheese, cilantro crema  along with pork sliders.  Oh, yes, and the best guacamole ever.  

We left the party fairly early to go back to Emily's house and fix what needed to be done to the dissertation, which was to insert some pages and re-do the pagination.  I am so lucky that Emily loves doing that kind of stuff although I was a bit nonplussed to realize that she has a much newer version of MS Word and I had no clue how to use it.


We went to bed at 1:30 a.m.  It still wasn't done.  I had to be up at 7:00 a.m.  Emily said she would work on it some more.  We couldn't get the pagination right.

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Saturday arrived way too quickly, but I shower and dress and wait until the last minute to wake Emily.  She has promised to drop me off and she puts a jacket over her jammies and we fly out the door.  She even stopped at Starbucks to get me coffee and a muffin.  (Both are greatly overrated, imho.)  Emily promised to get the document to him come hell or high water.  And she does, including her phone number in an email if he has any questions.  [He responded with the equivalent of, 'I'll get back to you.'  He hasn't so far (it's Sunday) and at this point I have given up caring,]

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From the day before, I know how to get into the DCU, but I still don't know where I'll be sitting and I'm worried about too many stairs.  I am very glad to have my cane because these long corridor walks, which are easy for most people, are very painful for me. 

However, not wanting to be stopped with a too large bag (they had said no back packs, no duffel bags), I have brought my net book bag which I made and the convention bag that they had given me the night before.  Both are heavy.  I had put my wallet in one.

At that point, I run into Bonnie McCracken who's pushing an old friend of mine in a sit down walker and she tells me we are on the ground floor just through those doors. Great!  Well, sort of.  It's another long, long corridor, and first you hit the campaign/cause tables and then the snack area.  I sat and drank some coffee and ate my muffin.  They had said you can't bring in food, but I figured I could always hit them with my cane.

At this point, I'm over-tired and anxious.  So I sit down on an end chair thinking that I'll just compose myself. And a woman comes and says, "You are in my seat."  I said, "You mean the seat with nobody in it?"  She says, "You are in my seat. I was sitting there."  I note that she has a cane too and I'm envisioning a close quarter fencing match.  

However, I have my limits and the third time she said, "That's my seat," and she started poking and pushing me, I said, "I can understand English.  Are these empty seats also occupied?"  And she says no so I move in.  It's then that I realize that the whole freaking row of seats is attached.  Anytime anyone from the middle wants to get out, we all have to get up.  Now add two bags, one of which doesn't have a zipper (I have to fix that!!), and you have a really aggravating situation.  At one point*, the net book bag fell behind me onto the floor and a woman was standing on my phone! I had to whack her in the ankle to get her to move her foot.  Thanks to the Otter that Emily had ordered for me, the phone was unscathed.

I noticed that Lynne Weintraub was about 6 seats down from me.  Unable to move, I have to play telephone poke to get her attention and she tells me to save the empty seat next to me.  I do and it turns out I was saving the seat for Rep. Ellen Story.  And that's o.k., because she is a delight to talk to.  

O.k., it's true that this picture is from the Kanegasaki dinner, but Ellen always looks this good.  (My hair is way shorter now)

Imagine my embarrassment when Ellen tells me the woman on the end is Judy Brooks whom I have known for years.  I hadn't recognized Judy because she has lost so much weight.  So I introduced myself and apologized by bringing her some puffed chips some time later. We chatted amiably as the long day wore on.

Finally, everyone was there and we had all checked in with our teller.  Every section had its own teller and the teller had a list of voting delegates and alternates.  Then the speeches began; each was preceded by someone introducing the candidate and then a video.  

Above is during the speechifying.  See the jumbotron on the right? There was one in the center of the ceiling, but it gave me a pain in the neck to look up at it.
There were five candidates for governor and a couple for each of the other offices. 

Below, the voting is about to begin.  People are a bit restless, since by then, it's close to 3:00 p.m. 

Alice Swift center, bottom and Lynne W. right behind her.

* Then the voting began. There is only one way to describe voting.  It was a cluster fuck.  Big time.  The teller stood in one spot, luckily behind me (and I was in the last row of the Hampshire, Franklin, Worcester section) and everyone had to go to her.  Can you say "crush of people"? All of us expected that our names were alphabetical.  Nope.  So right after the b's she called me.  It was pandemonium, but nobody could move.  (Thus, when the woman had stepped on my phone, she couldn't move her foot any place but up.)

Aforementioned CF (above)

The Teller is on the far right in white shirt with a notebook.

Above, you can see the Teller who had to HEAR your 5 votes even though some people tried to give it to her written on a piece of paper.  Then she repeated your vote so you were sure she got it right.  It was almost impossible to hear anything except the din of the crowd.

The voting took forever.  Really.  What about the Electronic Tellers?  They were practicing.  It occurred to me (and I told everyone) that a cruise ship with thousands of passengers checks them off ship when they dock in Mexico and checks them back on board with a bar code on a plastic card.  Why didn't the Dems put a bar code on our credentials?  (Our $75 credentials, by the way, were a piece of card stock) The bar coded credential could be used for check in and voting.  Some people said that was too easy.

After the voting, naturally, was counting.  In order to get on the ballot, each candidate had to receive a minimum of 15% of the vote.  The voting and counting took hours.  Really.  Finally, we were down to Grossman, Coakley, and Berwick for Governor.  Luckily, no candidate wanted a second ballot and the Convention declared, by acclamation, that Grossman is the Democratic Party's endorsed candidate.  There will still be the three on the ballot but Grossman got the most votes at the convention.

I am exhausted, but had promised Emily whatever she wanted for supper.  Still in her jammies, she picks me up and we get WONDERFUL Italian take out of shrimp scampi, fried calimari appetizer, and eggplant parmesan.  Mmmm mmmm good!

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It's Sunday!  Emily was a tad tired and slept until 10:30 a.m. which is o.k. because I got to watch CBS Sunday Morning. I love that show.  Then I watched the Phantom Gourmet and they suggested the Twisted Fork in Worcester for breakfast or dinner.  By the time we got there, it was almost 1:00 p.m.

I had my favorite: Irish eggs benedict.  His twist? He added mashed potatoes and spinach.  Emily had bananas foster French toast.  Really.  It was very sweet with brown sugar and banana liquor.

After that it was back to Em's house where we "mowed" her "lawn" with a weed whacker.  Her lawn is a triangle about 5 feet on a side.  And we cut down a lot of bamboo.  It's too bad she's not a panda bear because she would be set for food for life.

And now I'm home blogging to you.  It occurs to me that I did not show you my plants (which I forgot to go look at while it's still light).  So this pic is two weeks old.  I think. I'm chronologically challenged.

There's still more to go in the garden, but that's later.  Cheers, I'm off to watch Longmier at 10:00 p.m. on A&E.
                               
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Monday Aftermath:  Wrong night for Longmier.  Client said he had to make changes and will keep me posted.  Why?