Spring Projects

Now that I'm back from my short trip, things are really starting to ramp up here, spring wise. The snow has almost all melted, and I'm starting to do more outdoor things. I've been hiking several times lately, I have the Heart Run next weekend, and I'm starting to clean up the yard.

In addition to those things, I've started several batches of seeds indoors. I decided this year I'm going to take the plunge and try to grow some warmer weather items, like tomatoes, peppers and eggplant. I will need a greenhouse for this, but I've wanted one for years and I think I can get a temporary one until I decide where I want to permanently build one.

I used an old spinach container to make a seed incubator.

As if I didn't have enough to do, I also decided I want to build a table out of a pallet I found behind the electronics recycling center. It's a really nice pallet -- I've been told it's oak and used for heavier duty stuff. I'd like to use it on my deck for an outdoor plant table. It should be an easy project, but of course, there's been some snafus with buying 4 x 4s at Lowes, etc. I am hoping to have this done in the next couple weeks, to share on the blog.

The pallet.

In other news, I'd like to share my friend's next adventure: Allyn is going on a cross-country bicycle trip, and she is blogging about it at http://almaontheroad.blogspot.com/. This would be an accomplishment for anyone, but Allyn is also a teacher and a mother of two, so it's not like she doesn't have anything else to do! She's a great writer, and I'm really excited to follow her journey.

Flirting for Nerds 101

So, I went to trivia with my friends Sam and Cindi the other night, and I'm pretty sure the waiter was hitting on me:

Waiter: How did you guys do on Round 1?
Me: We got 7 out of 10! Woohoo! We rock!
Waiter: 7 out of 10? That's 70%. That's like, a C minus?
Me: So? You got zero out of 10. That's like, an F. [This is called "witty banter", folks.]
Waiter: Actually, I got 100%.
Me: What?
Waiter: Zero out of zero. That's 100%.
Me: Zero out of zero? Actually, mathematically, isn't that undefined?
Waiter: .....so are you going to order, or what?

Ohhhhh yeah, I still got it.

Drips and Drabs

Well, my blog stats are really dropping off, probably because I've been too busy to keep up with it lately. So what have I been doing?

Whitey's Pale Ale: my first batch of brew!

I tried the first batch of beer that I made all by myself. It turned out pretty good, although a couple of bottles didn't carbonate because I think the seals on the caps were bad. I'm looking forward to making something new though -- I think this time I might try a darker bear, like a porter or a stout.

Plastic sled dogs at the Anchorage Museum

Heidi came to visit, and we went to see Gyre: The Plastic Ocean, an exhibit at the Anchorage Museum that was all about the plastic currently polluting our oceans. It was a nice mix of art made from ocean plastic, informative displays discussing the science behind plastic and the Great Garbage Patch, and environmental activism. Anchorage was the first location for this exhibit, and if it comes to a museum near you, I highly recommend it. It will certainly make you think about how you use plastic.

The smile says it all!

Even though the snow hasn't been great, I went skiing on one of the sunniest and most beautiful days in weeks. And it was absolutely fantastic.

And I've been doing lots of garden activities -- with my permaculture class, and then on my own, like attending the Alaska Botanical Garden's Annual Spring Conference. It was really great seeing my classmates there, learning new things, and networking with local gardeners.

One of the things I've been struggling with lately is what to post about. I've been doing a lot of gardening stuff, but I know that's not for everyone and I don't want to bore my readers. What do you want to hear about? Post in the comments if you have an idea!

Adventures in Pumpernickel Bread: The Stuff of Life

I haven't baked in a while, but this weekend* I decided to jump back into it by making my first batch of pumpernickel bread. Pumpernickel bread is pretty much the reason I bought this bread book to start with -- apparently, it's not really that popular in Alaska and I can't find it at the stores. However, it's kind of complicated and requires unusual ingredients so I haven't tried it before today.

The bread book I have is Bernard Clayton's New Complete Book of Breads. Bernard Clayton smiles at you from the back of the book in a grandfatherly manner, as if to say "Anyone can make these breads! Even an old dude like me!" I should have known this was going to be trouble when the description of the recipe starts out "Caution: If you are about to launch a career in baking, don't begin with this loaf....It is a loaf for an advanced student..." Well, I thought, I'm no beginner. And I'm not starting a career in baking. So I'll give it a go.

Trouble sign number 2: I had some trouble with the ingredients. First of all, dark rye flour is not sold at Fred Meyers, so I had to get light rye flour. And then I forgot to buy the unsweetened chocolate. But the recipe calls for a crapload of molasses (yes, that's a technical term), so I figured I'd cut out the sugar and just add bittersweet chocolate chips.

I mix everything up, per the instructions, and go to knead the bread. "The dough will be stiff and sticky by hand or in the mixer" the book says. I sprinkle a "liberal" amount of flour onto my new baking mat and start to knead.

Only now, the dough takes over. It's not just sticky. It sucks my hands in and gloms them together. I am starting to resemble Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby. But good old Bernard tells me "Be patient and presently the dough will respond and begin to clear the work surface, and your fingers". I try a little more, and add some flour. The dough starts to act like The Stuff.

Art is based in real life, you know.

I add a little more flour. The dough maintains its hold. I start to worry that someone will report me missing in three days, and the police will just find a giant mass of dough in my kitchen. I add even more flour, spilling some on the floor and the dog in the process.

Fievel auditioning for a role in Blow 2: To Say Nothing of the Dog

The kitchen starts to resemble a cocaine factory, except the workers are a lot less high on, uh, life. Finally, I realize the instructions should have read "Dump in a whole crapload of flour to match the crapload of molasses, because you're going to need it". So I dump in the rest of the bag of flour, and voila, the alien life force is beaten into submission and becomes an actual ball of dough.

At this point, I've added in so much flour I think "there's no way this is going to rise", which is pretty much exactly what Bernard has told me I would think. But after an hour, I check the bread, and holy pumpernickel, it has actually risen! So I throw it in the oven for the specified time at the designated temp, and...out comes pumpernickel rolls, almost exactly like I wanted!

"Haha! I'm Bernard Clayton, laughing all the way to the bank!"

Unfortunately, by this time I'm exhausted, and so I decided not to eat them right away with a delicious homemade soup -- instead, I throw them in the fridge, and make a rather plebeian "cheese quesadilla", a.k.a cheese in a tortilla nuked for 30 seconds.

Honestly, this was a big mistake, because I didn't make the delicious homemade soup until two weeks later (life stuff, blah blah blah), and microwaving the roll to heat it up turned it into a hockey puck. Will I make Bernard Clayton's wonderful pumpernickel bread again? Perhaps, but only when I've stopped having a semblance of a social life and have time to deal with it.

Homemade veggie stew and hockey puck: Dinner of Champions

*I started this post a while ago, but didn't get around to finishing it. See above re: life stuff.

Fair Weather Skier, or How I Spent a Weekend in Girdwood and Only Skied One Run

I awoke to the sound of the avalanche cannons in Girdwood on Sunday morning. This can be either a good thing or a bad thing -- they will fire them to bring down avalanches when there's been a lot of snow, but they also fire them when there's been a lot of wind or mixed precipitation changing the consistency of the snowpack. In this case, I knew it was the second scenario.

It's MLK Day weekend, and Heidi and Dan have come down from Fairbanks, and Joe and Allison have come up from Seward, all of us to converge on Harry and Susie's condo for a weekend of skiing. As is typical when we make plans, Mother Nature has played a horrible joke on us and turned the weather to snow mixed with rain and wind, which are not the best conditions for skiing. But we've all committed -- Joe, Heidi, and Harry and Susie to patrolling, and me, Dan and Allison to supporting our friends and spouses on the slopes.

As is also typical, our Saturday night plans involved a party of some sort, so I have a headache. Plus, Dan is snoring like a buzzsaw in the bottom bunk, so I toss fitfully and listen to the water outside. Is that rain? Meltwater dripping off the roof? The rushing of Glacier Creek? None of these options say "Hey, let's go skiing!" to me. Finally I get up and wander downstairs, where Allison has made coffee. Dan and I add a healthy shot of Bailey's each (hair of the dog, you know) and I go to the window and look up at the mountain. Something is falling sideways -- snow or rain, I'm not too sure -- and the lighting is flat, and the clouds are obscuring the mountain tops.

At about 11:30, Heidi sends a cheery text. "Hey, it's not too bad up here! You guys should come out!" I look outside at the sideways rain. "Ooh, look, Pirates of the Caribbean is on!" Allison says. I pour another shot of Bailey's in the coffee and slump down on the couch.

Finally, about 12:30, I look outside and can see further up the mountain. "Maybe we should go" I tell Allison and Dan. Heidi has sent us a couple more cheery texts, so I'm feeling guilty. Plus, even though I have a free pass, I'm feeling lazy for driving an hour to Girdwood to lie on Harry and Susie's couch. We pack our stuff into the Fit and head over to the resort.

Riding up the lift, the weather is as expected, which we comment on vociferously. "My pants are wet from the rain" I complain. "It's colder than I thought" Allison adds. "The wind is blowing my skis around" Dan comments. "This snow is hurting my face". "My goggles are fogging up". "That snow looks terrible".

We reach the top, where the wind is spiraling little spindrifts of snow off the North Face. "Hey guys!" Heidi says. "I wish you had come up earlier, it really wasn't too bad. But now it looks like the wind is picking up." We start skiing and the snow is...nice. Surprisingly nice. But the wind is getting worse. Joe meets us midway down the mountain, where the wind really starts whipping around the roundhouse. He informs us that they're closing Chair 6 and the tram, the two ways to the top of the mountain. "This is what it looks like in the movies just before they have to make the decision to start eating people" Allison says. "I'm thinking this may be our last run".

Heidi and Dan at the roundhouse. Those white dashes are wind driven snowflakes.

Skiing down the mountain, the snow gets progressively slushier, except where it's icy. At the choke point, we get bombarded by a large group of elementary-age skiers, who have varying skills and little to no fear of death -- yours or theirs. Allison turns one way, but her board doesn't follow, so she tumbles down the hard slopes. Dan turns to check on how we're doing and immediately does the same thing. So we ski down, in this fashion, avoiding the Ski Wees, until we reach the bottom. "We're at the Sitzmark bar!" I announce. "Mmm, yam fries!" Allison says. Dan is already putting his skis in the rack. We throw ourselves down on the couches and order some beer, wings, nachos and yam fries.

Heidi, Joe, Harry and Susie continue their work on the slopes, saving injured people and fixing dangerous conditions as all three of us shovel in the food and watch the opening of the Seahawks-49ers game. "Another beer?" someone asks. "Don't mind if I do," I say. "Man, ski weekends are the best thing ever!"

Faster, higher, more storage?

I currently have a cell phone for work, but with the furlough (I'm not furloughed yet but might be soon), I'm not supposed to use it. In spite of the fact that we shouldn't need to be tethered to the social network, blah blah blah, I'm not prepared to enter the world cell-phone-less. Additionally, I couldn't download apps to my phone, and I was kind of tired of the control factor. So this weekend, I finally went out and bought a phone of my own.

Holy cow, it's so much better. I had the Apple iPhone 4, which is kind of out of date at this point. The new one I have is the Samsung Galaxy S III, which is not the newest thing, but much better than the iPhone 4 at this point. And I love it. I find the Android OS easier, it's so much faster, it's easier to access my security settings, and I love how it's not proprietary. The To-do list app I loved so much isn't available, but I wasn't supposed to have that on my old phone anyway. And the camera is much better too! (See the picture above).

I don't know how much of this is upgrading to a phone/service that's more advanced than what I had, and how much of it is Apple vs. Google. But I do like being in control of my own phone and my own service again. Now to download all the apps!

On Television

Dad asked me at one point how I was able to read so many books, and I said "Well, I don't watch much television". Which makes me a bit of an outlier in this day and age. Ethan and I haven't had cable in years -- it came with my first apartment in Alaska, but when I moved out after a year and a half I got rid of cable and never looked back. That doesn't sound so strange now, with many people going to Hulu.com and Netflix, but back then, I was weird.

Then we moved to Australia, and our bunny ears didn't even work. And we just never bothered to buy new ones. I missed watching sporting events on t.v. sometimes, but otherwise, it was blissful. So when we returned, and didn't have a t.v. for about 5 months, it wasn't a hardship.

That isn't to say we don't watch t.v. at all. We watch a fair number of movies on the weekend, and we watched the football games all season long. But the difference now is that we watch t.v. much more purposefully. I will choose a show I want to watch, instead of turning on the t.v. and letting it remain on for 4 hours a night. You know what? I don't miss most of those shows anyway.

I'm a lot more productive now, too. I actually complete projects and start new ones. I tiled our kitchen backsplash this weekend (pictures to come once the grout's in), I have a painting waiting to be finished, and I'm going to a pottery class with my friend on Thursday. Plus, I actually make dinner on weeknights.

So that's what I'm doing with my life -- not watching t.v. I kill enough brain cells reading Facebook and surfing the interwebs anyway.

Watercoloring Between the Lines

I've received some more requests for pictures of my painting, so I thought I would talk a little bit more about how my watercolor class works. Each class, my teacher has us do a different painting that teaches certain skills. Like I said, it's pretty prescriptive so that we can imitate the techniques. He tells us exactly what to draw, and which colors to use. However, because we're mixing colors, they don't exactly turn out the same from person to person. So even though we're being told exactly what to do, everyone ends up with a slightly different painting. I should note these photos aren't the best. I should have taken them earlier when the sun was out and I could have used natural light, but well, I didn't.

This painting was in my third class. We were taught "negative space", i.e. painting the shadows in between the trees, splatter painting, and shadows.

Later I tried to use the negative space concept to create a painting of my own. This is supposed to be two kookaburras sitting on a branch in a forest. Ethan and I had quite a laugh over how the "forest" looks like wallpaper and the kookaburra on the left looks like a duck.

In my fourth class, we learned about reflections. I was not very happy with my trees in this painting, but I learned a lot about how to do reflections and that was very useful.

After that, I reattempted a painting of Mt. Susitna that I had done earlier. This is probably my best painting so far. I kind of copied it from a photograph, though, so it's not a work of genius or anything.

My fifth and final class in Watercolor I, we learned more about shadows: how to correctly place them on the ground. I did not use these techniques in another painting (yet).

I've really been enjoying the class, and some of the other students convinced me to sign up for Watercolor II. In the first class, we did this painting, where we learned how to use a scrubber brush and learned more about shadows again. (There's a lot to learn about shadows!) I was moderately happy with this one. The steam looks a little explosive, though.

Watercolor II is different every session, so some people take it over and over again. This meant there were some very good artists in the class and I had to remind myself not to compare my painting with theirs. After this, we're painting a larger painting -- and I guess it's going to take the remaining 4 sessions! This sounds like a lot of room for compounding errors to me. But I guess it also means I'll have more time to fix things. I hope.

Fun and Games

One thing Ethan and I got into when we were in Australia is playing board games. Not just Monopoly or Clue, but more complicated games that many people have never heard of, like Dominion, or one Ethan really liked called Arkham Horror.

Recently, Ethan's friend bought a new game called Space Alert, so we have spent the last couple of weeks playing it. It's pretty complicated, with a lot of rules, but they anticipate that and have you run through a tutorial by playing in stages. Each new stage adds a few rules, and by the time you go through the tutorial, you know them all.

Space Alert is what's known as a cooperative game, where everyone has to work together to beat a certain scenario. I actually like those kinds of games a lot, because it discourages competitiveness and improves team work and problem solving. Plus, it's not quite as disappointing when the whole team loses, versus when you lose on your own.

One thing that's kind of goofy about Space Alert is that it comes with a CD with several scenarios on it. You pop this in the player and it starts off with a robotic voice saying "ALERT! ALERT! INCOMING THREAT DETECTED! BEGIN PHASE ONE!" The first time we played, we had to start over because Robin and I were laughing so hard. It reminds me of "Danger, Will Robinson!" so it's really hokey. But the CD does direct the game play, so it's actually kind of important.

Anyway, I've been enjoying these game sessions on the weekend, and Space Alert is just the latest. This winter, it will be fun to play more games after a long hard cross-country ski, or other such thing.

And now for a gratuitous photo (to keep Dad engaged): a picture of the path near my house. The leaves are almost all gone now as we head into late fall. But this is why I love the fall here in Alaska!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

I feel apologetic for having such a boring post. But my life hasn't been all that exciting this week. I'll try to be more creative for next week!

Organiz-ization

Big news in our household this week: tomorrow, we actually get our stuff! You probably assumed it was already here, but no, for 3 months we have been living with 4 borrowed plates and sleeping on an air mattress, which, to use my already tired analogy, is not unlike sleeping on the floor of a bouncy house. Every time Ethan rolls over, I almost get bounced out of bed. But tomorrow, we will have a real bed! And dishes! And my umbrella! And more towels! I can't wait.

This did mean I had to do some clean up and reorganization to make sure the movers have enough room to move around and bring our stuff in. One of the main problems, besides the fact that we have a dog who seems to shed his body weight in fur monthly, is that I am married to a wallet-less George Castanza. For those of you unfamiliar with Seinfeld, in one episode George develops back problems from wearing a wallet that is stuffed to the brim with notes, phone numbers, business cards, etc.

Fortunately, Ethan suffers no back problems, because he leaves these little notes around the house. Because he continues writing speculative fiction, the notes not only include things like names of football players for his fantasy team, business recommendations, and people's phone numbers, sometimes they're little snippets of ideas for his writing. A less knowledgeable person might therefore read these and conclude that Ethan is either 1) a spy or 2) insane. For example, the back of an old bill might read

Roddy White 

"Happy Paws Kennel"

555-9253 

blood cloaked fangs coming 

ever closer to his throat 

hearing voices in the earmuffs??? 

Goalie John 555-2162

Since I don't know what these things are, I never know whether they are still useful or can be thrown away. On more than one occasion I've tried to throw out a crumpled old bar napkin that says something like "crackling fire/burnt leaves" and been told "No! That's very important!" So now I just put everything in little piles and store them in drawers.

Between these and the piles of used plastic bags, twisty ties, and scraps of cloth that I save because "we might need them!", at some point I realized: this is how crazy people live. But I'm okay with that, because at least one of us is productive with his creativity. I just hope the notes about the monsters are really for his writing, and we're not simply reenacting A Beautiful Mind.

Reading List Update

 As you may or may not recall, I have a reading plan this year in which I assigned each month a different genre, and then I read a book from my To Be Read List from that genre during that month. This is what I've read so far:

1. science fiction -- The Time Machine and I Am Legend
2. biography -- My Life in France (Julia Child)
3. book written in the past year -- Genius of Place: The Life of Frederick Law Olmsted
4. scientific non-fiction -- The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
5. historical fiction -- The Night Birds
6. humor -- I'm A Stranger Here Myself: Notes on Returning to America After 20 Years
7. political/satire -- A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
8. classic -- The Good Earth (still reading)
9. thriller
10. fantasy
11. young adult
12. travel

As you may have noticed, I'm still on the August book and we are almost finished with September, so I'm about a month behind. This is due to a lot of reasons, including the fact that I've joined a book club and need to read for that as well. Plus, I've read a lot of books not on this list. In fact, I've read 21 books so far this year, so it's not like I'm not reading, I'm just not achieving my book list goals. Anyway, I like the idea that I'll be reading a thriller in October. What a great month for it!

Even though I'm on track to read fewer books than I did last year, I feel like I'm reading a lot. Plus, I've read a wide variety of books this year, including some categories I never used to choose (biographies, in particular). I'll wait to summarize my reading list experience in December, when I decide what I'll do for next year, but so far, I'm liking my silly little goal.

Crappy Book Review: Most Likely to Die

So, when I flew to Chicago, I forgot to take a book. Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, I found a book left on the chair in the terminal: Most Likely to Die by Lisa Jackson, Beverly Barton, and Wendy Corsi Staub. Oh my gosh, was it bad. It was definitely your classic "train wreck" novel -- I kept reading to see how bad it would get. Here are my Top 10 Worst Things Ever from this book:

[spoilers abound, but really, you should just skip the book anyway]

1. It was set in a convent in: Spain? Italy? England? No, Portland, Oregon. And the convent had a shrubbery maze. Because you know, that's common in modern America.

2. The first main character revisits the murder scene (the shrubbery maze) late at night. WHO DOES THAT?

3. The first meeting of the high school reunion committee includes a Mexican girl (who likes jalapeno pizzas -- that's not a racist stereotype), an African American girl, and an Asian girl. Everyone else in the book is white. Can we say racial tokens?

4. Every person in this book is obsessed with the guy who is murdered in the first chapter, because they all "loved him". No one is that awesome, I'm sorry. Oh and by the way, he turns out to be a prick. What a surprise.

5. The whole first section of this book refers to the antagonist as "the killer" when telling the story from her point of view. As in "The killer hated Kristin. She remembered how snobby she was. The killer laughed to herself at how she was going to get even with her". I just don't have the energy to describe why that's so lame.

6. "The killer" also does things like laugh diabolically on the phone, use "Mickey Mouse" as a pseudonym when buying cell phones, and smile evilly to herself on the subway. Who is she, Cruella De Vil?

7. On one page, the author states how one character has escaped from a car wreck unscathed. The very next page, there's an extensive list of the injuries this guy suffered from the car wreck. I guess my definition of "unscathed" is a wee bit different.

8. One of the main characters is a cop, who emotionally beats herself up when a third lady in their group is murdered by the serial killer. "There's nothing you could have done" her boyfriend says. Um, how about setting up a security detail? Teaching the women self defense tactics like varying their routines? Cancelling the stupid reunion? Calling the FBI? There's a serial killer on the loose, and the only two people on the case are Joe "Cold Case" Gumshoe and Jane "Out of My Jurisdiction" Dingbat? Give me a break.

9. I cannot imagine any stupider love stories. The most ridiculous one is the one where one of the main characters has a one night stand in high school, gets pregnant and runs away, but yet is "in love" with this man for 20 years. And he's "in love" with her! Being "in love" for 20 years with someone you bonked one time at a party and then never saw again smacks of obsession to me. Those two should have been the serial killers.

10. The clincher? After the serial killer is caught, the final chapter wraps it up with all the main characters having married (or remarried) their love interests, and forming families. It was like the prize for catching a serial killer was a foxy rich husband and a kid. I almost threw up a little when the final two characters announced their impending pregnancy.

As an added bonus, there's a letter to the reader from each of the authors at the end of the book. "Dear Reader," one starts out. "How great is it that you picked up a copy of MOST LIKELY TO DIE?" (Not great. Not great at all.) "I hope you enjoyed the girls of 'St Lizzy's,' and their love stories set in a background of tense suspense." You know, I was getting tired of all those relaxing suspense books I've been reading!

I think one of the funniest things about this book is that the front cover labels it "The Scariest Novel of the Year!" Yeah, if all you read is Goodnight Moon. Harry Potter had scarier moments than this book! But hey, if you're looking for a good laugh, I highly recommend Most Likely to Die. Just don't read it in public. Or hide it behind a copy of The Great Gatsby if you do.

Pictureless Update

Well, I bought a new camera cord, but it doesn't seem to be working. Either that, or the camera is broken. I'm a bit frustrated, because I wanted to download some pictures. I guess that won't be happening for a little while.

In the interest of keeping you up to date, here's what happened since my last post:

1. I went to Florida, where I saw my parents and my sister and her family, and we attended the memorial service of my great-aunt. The highlight of the memorial service was that the funeral parlor included what can only be termed as The Funeral Walk of Fame. It had pictures of the funerals/obituaries of Elvis, Babe Ruth, Princess Di, Jim Hensen, the Pope (not sure which one) and Mr. Rogers. It was very odd, and slightly depressing.

Otherwise in Florida: I saw an armadillo, 3 manatees, went kayaking, went tubing down a river, ate a delicious Cuban sandwich, experienced at least 2 severe thunderstorms, and saw my 1 year old nephew for the first time.

2. I went to Virginia, where I saw my aunt, 2 uncles and a cousin, reconnected with 2 friends from high school, and drove down to Roanoke to visit my grandma. I also experienced another severe thunderstorm, went swimming, and got called a crybaby by my grandma. This happened when I teared up when she asked me if I remembered my grandpa, who died while I was in Sydney. She certainly has gotten less sympathetic in her old age!

3. I started my new job. I managed to show up late for a meeting on the very first day (okay, it's an informal weekly thing, but still) and have been in meetings ever since. My coworkers are super excited to have me on board because they can finally hand everything off because of my expertise and witty personality, so they've been really friendly. It's a great crew of people and I think it will be fun working together, so that's good.

4. We have been looking for a house to buy. I feel like I should be more excited about this than I am. Don't get me wrong, I really want to own my own home! But I don't really like the searching process, and every time someone says "Isn't looking for houses FUN?!?!" I kind of want to punch them in the face. The good news is, there's a lot on the market and it's pretty reasonable. However, I'm still waiting for that moment where we walk in the door, angels start singing, and I clasp my hands over my heart and say "Oh honey, it's PERFECT!" People keep telling me it will happen, but frankly, I don't think it will. The real world is not a goddamn realtor commercial. I think we'll keep looking for a little while longer and finally just pick the one that seems to be the best option.

That's probably enough pictureless updating for now. I'm not going to make any false promises about photos, because I don't really know when I'll get the camera situation fixed. I do have an iPhone now, so if I can work out how to post from my phone, you might get some photos. However, since this phone was Designed By Geniuses, For Geniuses, at this point it seems unlikely (also, I cannot download apps because it's a work phone. Don't ask).

And now, I'm off to go hiking while it's still summer.

No Really! I'm Telling the Truth!

So it appears I have actually lost my camera cord. This sucks, because we went hiking on Monday and literally almost ran into a mountain goat, of which I actually have pictures! You can file the last two items under "things that never happen, ever". But now I cannot share with you, because I can't download anything.

Ethan says that as soon as I buy a new cord, I'll find the old one, and he's probably right, but either way, you're just going to have to wait. Sorry!

Spider Stories (Warning: Picture of a fake spider ahead!)

One of the things that really worried me about moving to Australia was that I might have to interact with spiders. Not only is one of the world’s most deadly spiders right here in Sydney (the Sydney Funnel Web), but there are some rather large and scary looking spiders as well, which strike even more fear into the heart of any true arachnophobe. 

The spider I fear the most is the not-deadly-but-still-really-scary Huntsman, which is massive and likes to crawl inside vehicles. Everyone likes to tell me “It’s a friendly spider! It eats bugs!” But did I mention it’s massive? And hairy? It’s freaking Shelob from Lord of the Rings, only inside your car. I did not manage to escape my time in Australia with no spider sightings, but fortunately, I did manage to outwit them with my courage and cunning. 

Mom and Dad were the first witnesses to an encounter when they visited last spring. We had driven up to the Blue Mountains and were returning from dinner. As I pulled into the hotel car park, under the glow of the streetlamp, I saw a Huntsman on my dashboard, just on the other side of the steering wheel, staring at me with his eight beady eyes. I knew he had already won this battle, so I did the reasonable thing and jumped out of the car, letting him have it. Fortunately for Mom and Dad, I put it in park first. Dad saved the day by shooing him out with a brochure, but I made him do spider check every day after that. 

The second spider incident occurred when Ethan and I went to a comedy show with our friend Jane. She was driving us back to the train station when I saw my arch nemesis inside the car, next to the window. I calmly let Jane know this was an emergency by saying something like “There’s a spider in the car! THERE’S A SPIDER IN THE CAR!” while trying to crawl into her lap. Jane, understandably, refused to pull over because we were in one of the worst neighborhoods in Sydney and she didn’t want to get mugged. Given the choice, I would have made that sacrifice. Ethan wisely suggested that I roll down the window to let him out, but the window button was within a foot of the spider, which was way too close. I knew as soon as I made a move, the wily spider would leap onto my face with a bloodcurdling scream, and I could not take that risk. We were at a stand-off: the spider staring at me, me staring at the spider, and Jane desperately trying to find a safe place to pull over before I crawled out the hatchback like the star of an action movie. After a tense minute or so, she pulled over, and Ethan shooed the spider out with the point of the umbrella. 

All of this, of course, has provided much entertainment for my coworkers. About two weeks ago, my friend Rob told me he had a special gift for me that he found in a store and knew I just had to have: 

Real ones don't have a key chain coming out of their butt.

Even though I knew it was a toy, I didn’t really want to touch it. It’s a lot more colourful than a real Huntsman but it’s realistic enough for me. But Rob was being so friendly, I just couldn’t hurt his feelings. I left it on my desk all day, because I knew if I put it in my purse, I would scare the crap out of myself when I went to pull out my train ticket after work. Still, every once in a while, I would catch it with the corner of my eye and jump back from the desk, forgetting that it wasn’t real. 

Rob got his just desserts in the end, though. He also purchased one for his daughter, who took it to school for show-and-tell and then left it in her lunchbox. When Rob opened up her lunchbox that night, he nearly had a heart attack. I only wish I’d been there to see it.

Hot Town, Summer in the City

In spite of the fact that Ethan and I have lived here for over a year, we still find summer in Sydney to be hot. It doesn’t help that our new place has a few poorly placed trees, so during the day it heats up like an Ezy-Bake oven. Although we have an air conditioning, it basically only air conditions the living room, in particular, the sofa. So Ethan and I try to do a lot of heat management with fans – partially because of the poor airflow, but also because we’re cheap bastards.

When we moved here from Maroubra, we brought two fans with us that we had acquired for the low, low price of $0. One was an American box fan that Ethan’s dad had given us that was left by a vacating tenant. Although operational, at the time it was covered in dust and also, judging by a large amount of feathers on the blades, at one point had eaten a pigeon, therefore requiring some cleaning on my part. Our second fan we managed to scavenge from a pile of junk left outside the front of the Maroubra apartment. In spite of being “junk”, it worked, and was in fact cleaner than the box fan originally had been.

Within a short time of moving, the Maroubra fan died. So I went to Vinnie’s, partially because I like to give consumerism the finger by purchasing used things, and partially because I’m a cheap bastard, and bought a new fan for $8. Then the box fan bit the dust. It had developed the annoying habit of not operating on level 2, but I found if you smacked the dial a little bit, it would start up. Until one day it wouldn’t start up at all. I guess I smacked it around just a little too much.

Now we’re left with the $8 fan, which is still working great. It has 3 levels, which seem to be EF1, EF2, and EF3, as specified in the Enhanced Fujita tornado scale. In the living room this resulted in a dust-bunny cotillion and a minor Christmas card disaster, in which pictures of my friends’ children fell like the ducks at a state fair shooting gallery. Last night it was warm enough that out of desperation, we decided to move Hurricane Miranda into the bedroom.

In a normal house, you might be able to open some windows, to help with airflow. Unfortunately, we live on Major Thoroughfare #1, and the sound of cars driving past all night long does nothing to lull me to sleep. I thought the fan might provide some gentle white noise in the bedroom to help drown out the sound of sirens and thumping bass all night long.

So there I was, lying in bed, watching our bookmarks and various scraps of paper float above my head like a mobile of disorganization when I realized, this is not working. I asked Ethan if he was asleep yet. “No”, he replied.

“Is the fan bothering you?”

“Sort of. It’s kind of loud.”

“I know, I keep thinking about the end of Casablanca, when they’re standing on the tarmac, waiting for the plane to take Ingrid Bergman to Lisbon.”

“Yeah. You know that part in North By Northwest when Cary Grant nearly gets taken out by the crop duster? That’s what I was thinking of.”

At that moment, there was a loud clunk. I turned the light on to find out that the fan had blown a picture and its holder from the top of the bookshelf. “Maybe if you didn’t have it on rotate?” Ethan suggested helpfully. I picked up the picture and its holder, and weighted them down with a piece of my “rock collection”. Next house I live in, I thought, we’re going to have real air conditioning and better airflow. And it won’t be located on The Highway to Hell, so we won’t have to use a fan that makes us dream we are being evacuated from a rooftop in Saigon. And then maybe, I’ll get some goddamn sleep in the summer.

But we’ll always have Sydney.

Fashion Show!

One of my goals for this year was to expand my summer wardrobe, preferably by shopping at the thrift store. Over the past few weeks it’s become apparent that I needed to do so quickly; my summer wardrobe consisted mostly of dark colored t-shirts, which were not particularly pleasant as it began to heat up. After last summer’s less than successful thrift store trips, I started out at Target, where I found a few items that were successful.

White shirt: $32.  Jeans: purchase previously

Purple shirt: $29.  Khaki shorts: $27

Yellow shirt: $12 Green shorts: $24

On my way home, I decided to stop by Vinnie’s, a thrift store run by the Catholic St. Vincent de Paul society. Here I found a few more items, some of which I really liked.

White halter: $4.  Shorts from Target.

Orange shirt: $6.  Shorts from Target.

Purple dress: $9.

Red and white dress:$8.  This was my favorite!

I spent a total of $124 at Target, and $27 at Vinnie’s. My average cost per item was $24.80 at Target, while it was only $6.75 at Vinnie’s, where I found my favorite items of the day. I say it’s Vinnie’s for the win!

Did you miss me?

Wow, has it really been six weeks since I last updated?  Sorry, dear readers!  We were busy with finding a new place to live, moving, and then preparing for my parents' visit.   We also took a trip to Canberra to check out Floriade, which is a flower show.  That was fun and I hope to post some pictures soon.  On the other hand, I might never get to it. My track record with the pictures hasn't been great lately.

I'm sure you're absolutely dying to know about our new abode, so I'll tell you:  we have moved further from Sydney, and further from the beach, to a town called Miranda.  Miranda is a suburb in Sutherland Shire, which is about as far south as you can get from Sydney and still be considered to live in the city.  It's known for its massive mall and not much else. 

Our new place is a house with a giant yard, which is nice.  We have a lot more room, so I like that a lot.  The house is older and a bit run down, so that's a bit of a bummer after living in our nice new place by the beach.  The windows don't open and the insulation is non-existent, so that means it's cold when it's cold and hot when it's hot.  We do have air conditioning in the lounge, so that's nice.

Although our little dog likes the new yard, he does not run around much, which kind of hacks me off.  Instead, he just stands there, blinking in the sun. We moved to the boonies so you could have a giant yard, you ungrateful little bastard!  If I had known you were going to do your best dog statue impression, we could have found a place with a balcony in the city.  On the other hand, we don't have to walk him to get exercise; we can throw the toy in the backyard, which given my previous post on his bad walking behaviour and the fact that our street is basically a highway, is a good thing.

As mentioned previously, my parents are visiting the southern hemisphere. (They are currently in New Zealand).  They stopped through last week and we did a few things in Sydney, which they seemed to enjoy, in spite of the 45 minute train ride and 20 minute walk to the station.  They will be back in a week or so for round 2, in which I think we'll head out of Sydney to see some other parts of Australia.

In the interest of keeping this fairly short, I'll sign off for now, but I'll try to be a bit better about posting in the future.  Just try not to expect too much.

Kicked Out

So for those of you who haven’t heard, our place finally sold. Two out of the three bidders were investors, so statistically speaking, we had a good chance of getting another investor. Of course, the winning bid came from the non-investor, once again proving that statistics have nothing to do with real life and Murphy’s Law has everything to do with it. We have to be out by the beginning of next month, so we are frantically looking for places.

Meanwhile, we have not received notice from our rental agent that we’re getting kicked out, because he is awesome. And by awesome, I mean awesome at being a jackass. Fortunately, his name rhymes with a rude term you would use to describe someone of his intellectual capability, so Ethan and I have been referring to him by that name.

G.H. (I’m going to obscure his name because there’s no guarantee we’re rid of him; also he’s supposed to provide a reference. Can you hear me rolling my eyes?) makes it painfully obvious that he doesn’t give a crap. I had to call and e-mail him three or four times to get him to schedule the agreed-upon carpet cleaning when I moved in. Even though I specifically stated in my final e-mail that I was very disappointed in his company’s service, he did not address it when he responded. He never got us the key to the garage, even though the block manager told us that it had been sent to him, and he didn’t want to add Ethan as a cosigner on the lease because he would have to draw up a new lease. (I didn’t pursue it). But the kicker came last week, when I received a letter asking us to check our smoke detectors: it was addressed “Dear ,”. Now I’m not being coy about having my name on the internet – he really couldn’t be bothered to figure out how to mail merge names onto a freaking form letter. Microsoft Word is made for that shit! Nothing says “I don’t care” like a letter without an opening address. (Seriously, even “Dear Tenant” or “Dear Resident” would have been preferable).

To show my disdain, I have refused to fill out G.H.’s silly survey, because I am a rebel like that. Is that a boat you feel rocking? Oh yes it is! I might even throw his letter away. I know, I’m uncontrollable. Feel my white middle class rage! And if we do manage to be rid of him, I’m going to flip him off as we go by his office. In slow motion, because we don’t have a car and have to ride the bus. He’ll know it’s us, because we’ll be bedraggled from the box we’re sleeping in. It might even be worth the $3.50.

Neighborhood Watch

Sitting here, looking at my sweet little dog enjoying the sunshine, it is hard to believe that this is the same snarling, whirling beast that was on the walk earlier today.  Fievel seems to think that he must alert me to every danger on the planet.  He is an equal opportunity barker.  Race, gender, sexuality, age, and socio-economic status are no barriers to barking.  He knows that a poor black lesbian is just as dangerous as a middle-class white man.  Here are some groups that Fievel finds particularly dangerous.  I'm informing you because they may be in your neighborhood, and you should be on the lookout.

1.  Dogs within a 7 mile radius
2. Children, particularly babies in strollers
3.  Old people
4.  Runners
5.  People on wheeled conveyances (bikes, scooters, skateboards)
6.  People who have difficulty walking (i.e. they require a cane)
7.  People who have a pleasant manner and are nice toward him
8.  Birds
9.  Grocery shoppers (who KNOWS what's in those bags?!?!)
10.  Things that move or flap in the wind, such as flags, garbage bags, and tarps
11.  People who do yard work

Our neighborhood is especially dangerous because some of these groups like to gang up.  Old people and children specifically, will frequently join together to terrorize the community.  Sometimes they even invite people on wheeled conveyances along.  It's a real menace, I tell you.

Of course, the irony in all this is that he views everything completely differently inside the house.  A burglar could break in, and as long as he wasn't carrying a vicious baby or wielding a cane, Fievel would be happy to greet him.  "Are you here for the jewels?  Great!  They're over there with the dog treats."

Other people are happy to tell us that it's a training issue.  Well thank for the input, but we took him to training and he still misbehaves.  I blame his previous owners for poor doggie socialization techniques.  At this point, Ethan and I are looking looking forward to buying a house with a yard to solve the problem.  Preferably a ranch.  With a moat.  And a 10 foot wall.