Life of Wry

Being a bit pressed for time, but not wanting to get any further behind on my blog, I’ll make this an archive day…

Seeing as how we got a ton a rain today, and the Sierra got a ton of snow, I’m picking a wintry weather photo… this one from 2004. Peter is 5 in this picture.

I crack up every time I see this picture. It reminds me of those Cover Girl ads back in the 60s and 70s. Remember their technique for converting an action sequence into a cover shot for the magazine? There’s probably one or two on Youtube…

Sorry, hon. But you’re awfully cute!

Big doings in the neighborhood.

And yeah, this was taken yesterday since it’s raining today (and hopefully most of the rest of the week, which is why these guys are working on a Sunday).

I agree, this isn’t all that interesting to share (though we in the neighborhood are pretty darn pleased, as University-area homes, which are mostly student rentals, don’t have the classic elegance, tidy yards and general street appeal of homes in Davis’ other neighborhoods, so any improvement–even just a room expansion–is a big deal for us), but if I really told you what was going on today, you might feel sorry for me, or worry, or, I don’t know, maybe just chalk it up to being almost 60. Whatever. If it truly becomes news, I’ll share.

Until then, the owner-occupieds on A Street are happy.

I am not a quitter. But more than that, I have puzzle OCD, so even if I wanted to quit a puzzle, I cannot. Impossible.

I’ve been wanting to do a jigsaw puzzle for weeks… couldn’t wait to be done with all of our holiday obligations and activities and just sit by the fire drinking tea and zoning out on a jigsaw. In the worst way.

Today was the day.

Went through the twenty or so that we have and picked a never-opened, 750-piece puzzle–a picture of a garden workbench, baskets of flowers, the front porch of a clapboard house… the usual. It was to be the first of many–my warm up–and I picked it because it had what seemed like discreet sections, distinct colors and enough variation to keep me engaged. I don’t like puzzles that have repeating designs or large swatches of the same color, or other gimmicks designed to make it sillily challenging. I just wanna sort colors and go. I like the satisfaction of making progress.

Here what I picked:

It started out fine, I thought:

It took two hours to 1) get all the pieces flush and upright and set aside the edges; and then 2) complete the perimeter. Maybe it always takes me that long, maybe I’m rusty… but two hours surprised me.

And then it took another FIVE hours to get this far:

That’s it, after seven hours. A pretty nice seven hours–fire, tea, quiet, the glow of Christmas lights–but SEVEN hours.

Then I looked at all the pieces, somewhat strategically grouped, and couldn’t even begin to find blippin dried corn on the cob. And, as I decided instead to do the flower baskets (but found they were too fuzzy), and then realized those gorgeous fall leaves were indistinguishably blended and nearly the same color as the shadows and the town in the distance, I thought… sh*t… I don’t like this puzzle anymore.

So here’s the new thing I did that I’ve never done before: I decided to quit. Just say NO to this stupid puzzle and find a better one!

I’ve NEVER done that. It’s more like me to be a prisoner of my puzzle OCD, to feel like I can’t not solve the puzzle, to feel I MUST slog it out to the bitter end.

But hey, not this time. I’m breaking that puzzle down and starting another one. Easy peasy.

I think this a good sign… a very good sign. Let’s call it the first healthy decision of 2016. The simple result of a pure and uncomplicated cost-benefit analysis. A nod to self-respect. The first step down the path of puzzle liberty. Freedom and liberty in ALL THINGS! The flip of a middle finger to the neurotic patterns of 2015 and every year before it.

Heh. No promises. No eager and optimistic resolution even. But I’ll take my victory over the jigsaw puzzle.

This was Peter about 40 minutes before his application to NYU was due January 1, 2016. He had until the stroke of midnight. Come 12:01 a.m. January 2, applications not accepted. At this point, he still had the finishing touches on an essay to do, still had credit card information to enter, still had to find his social security number, and still had to do a once-over of the entire application to make sure it was complete before clicking the submit button.

He’s already got nine apps in, including most of his high priority schools, so Jim and I have mentally moved on; if he misses the remaining deadlines, it’s fine. We figure any additional applications at this point are gravy.

Still.. as I watched him push this deadline to the absolute limit, I was getting an ulcer. His casualness about the time was making me absolutely crazy. I was calm on the outside (mostly), not wanting to add counterproductive stress to the situation, but inside an anxious, gurgling, adrenaline-y mess. And again, NOT because I was panicked about his missing an opportunity to apply to NYU, but because I CANNOT STAND watching him tease and toy with deadlines.

I am the mom. I’m supposed to teach him life skills… like how to budget his time. Like respect for schedules, calendars and deadlines. Among other things. RIGHT?? He’s just about eight months from launch. He may go out into the world before he’s mastered time management.

He may instead just master the art of procrastination.

Like his mom.

Like his dad.

[Hangs head.]

This picture also amuses me, because: Zits.

January 1. Cold.

While the world was watching the Stanford/Iowa game and Peter was skiing, we were taking a walk downtown.

This is a winter sky:

We partied like it was 2014.

That is…   we went to the Odd Fellows Hall and danced in the new year to the very danceable music of Mumbo Gumbo. Just like last year.

So much fun.

Couldn’t help but notice the demographic at this event was quite, uh… well… old. Like us. Guessing the average age was 50-55. Is that possible? Lot-o-grey hair in that crowd. But here’s the thing: we’re all boomers– raised in the 60s, raised on rock and roll. I must say, we rocked it.

Even though they limit the door to about 200-250 people, we ran into lots of people we know. Makes for a fun time.

Here’s a dark and not very clear shot of the stage. Mumbo Gumbo’s been around a long time, but they still serve up some great music…lot of talent in those musicians:

Jim and me…

Aren’t we funny?  (Or maybe just fuzzy.) (Any month now Jim’s going to get that implant in…)

So.. dancing, balloon drop, champagne, noise makers, Auld Lang Syne, kissing and hugging all around… the whole nine yards. Hilarious.

They were serving gumbo downstairs, but we’d eaten at home first… a small pre-dance party gathering. Ginger, butternut squash soup, salad, and…

A slow-cook pot roast:  Yukon potatoes, onions, carrots, tomato paste, worcestershire sauce, broth and a wee bit of corn starch as a base.

Rub a chuck roast with fresh minced garlic, season with salt/pepper and place on top:

Cover, set on high, and six hours later dinner’s done. It was pretty good!

Happy New Year.

You may have noticed I’ve been a remiss blogger for the last couple of weeks.

I have an excuse.

Well, two excuses: 1) I got sidetracked by holiday stuff, for one. Because we were heading south for Christmas, the timeline for getting holiday-ish things done was somewhat compressed… so… I was just busy and unable to post. I made up a few of the back posts while down south, and was getting on a roll, but then something bad happened… 2) My iPhoto program got all corrupted and I was unable to post or access photos at all.  Which really really sucks.

It happened on December 23 when, unbeknownst to me, my AC plug had fallen out, leaving me with only battery power and, since I have the world’s most anemic Macbook Pro battery, my screen blinked out before I realized what was going on.  By the time I plugged it back into the wall and got everything up and running again, my iPhoto program had crashed or died or I don’t know what, but I’d totally lost functionality. Very weird. I really think it was a complete overreaction on iPhoto’s part! But whatever, iPhoto was all corrupted and that was that. I was on the road, my hard drive with all my backups was at home, and I couldn’t upload or access any photos.

The night we got back from PV, I contacted the Apple tech support folks, but I didn’t really have enough time to complete a full restore because we were leaving the next morning for Geyserville. I started the process, but had to abort because it was going too slowly. Tried again while in Geyserville, but it failed.

Got back last night, and tried two more restores–one from Carbonite and one from Time Machine. I had what I thought was success with the latter. Everything looked normal again and I went to bed relieved. I had another session with the Apple people this morning just to make sure. The guy screen shared with me over the phone, said everything was good and even said he’d send me a more current version of iPhoto. Score!

After hanging up, I uploaded nearly two weeks of iPhone pictures and at this point everything went haywire. I don’t know why I didn’t call Apple back, but decided instead to call my buddy Gil, who now lives in New York. He’s very willing to help, but he isn’t free until next week. So… I’m on hold.

I think I need a new computer or an updated operating system, or both. But we’ll figure that out next week. In the meantime… I figured out a bit of a workaround on importing photos into my iPhoto database, but I’m a little nervous about it. So I’m not going to go crazy with lots of photos for a little while longer. But… maybe one…

This is a picture from yesterday… we’d come to a stop on Hwy 116–fortunately in a really pretty spot (most spots along 116 are pretty), so I got a few nice pics… here’s one:

And hey… that worked, so maybe I’ll be back tomorrow with another post.. and maybe some back posts… got a lot of catching up to do.

Went in search of Jim. He was not on the creek.

Lovely as it looks–duckweed notwithstanding–it was extremely cold. He’d already packed up.

I mentioned the project to map the depth of the creek? It’s only a small section and he’s wrapping up, but hopefully we can put the newly acquired inflatable kayak to use in other ways… because…

.. it’s neato, right?  (A shot Jim took on another day.)

Turns out, there seems to be no prohibition on water craft on Putah Creek.. so he’s promising a quiet little float trip when the weather warms.

It’s been a rainy week. The turkeys seem happy. This was on the north side, at the point where the greenbelt crosses Catalina. There were about 40 turkeys crossing the road.

I know there’s a joke in there. Just not real quick with the jokes…

Finally.

That old diseased-infested Modesto Ash next door–the one that was on the verge of falling on our house, crushing our roof, our bedroom and us–was slated for removal.

It took a few years of nagging on my part, but the city arborist finally agreed it was too far gone. The street tree commission gave the go ahead and today the crews came to take it down.

Here is the before:

Here is the final blow:

And here is the after:

It leaves a hole for sure, but not as bad as I expected… what with that monster REDWOOD right behind it, ready to fall, now completely unhindered by the Modesto Ash. Do NOT let those north winds blow.

(I’ve mentioned my fear of falling trees, ya?)

Also in the category of things coming down: the last wind storm did this to our back fence….

Is that crazy?

I believe that is going to turn into a spring project for Jim… keep ya posted.