It's my birthday. But more importantly, it's 7 years to the day since my first date with my hubby. Best. Present. Ever! The gift that keeps on giving...
As for the day, since it's supposed to rain I wanted to stay in bed with a good Book and listen to the raindrops on the tin roof. Then Dad said they were coming over, so I have to actually get up in the A.M., get dressed, and make sure the house is presentable. We didn't go out tonight, both of us worked and we're too tired (and too broke) to make the effort.
So, tonight I played some old tunes, ate a burrito and cleaned off my desk. Whee. I haven't played my Birthday Song yet... "Happy Birthday" by Concrete Blonde... it became a kind of tradition when I lived in California, so I'll have to dig it out later. Otherwise, looks like it's going to be just another day around here. I hope somebody brings cake. Caaaake!
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Saturday, August 19, 2006
I Wanna Rock!
Our planned full trek through Rickett's Glen tomorrow has been postponed. It's supposed to rain again, and anyway we don't need/want to spend any more than necessary on gasoline right now. It's a ways away. Sure is a pretty place, though. I hope we get to go another time!
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Another Work Post
My boss had his interview for the head grower position today. We're all pulling for him, although we really like working for him the way it is now. If he gets the position (and we're fairly sure he will) he'll move up the ladder and we'll be left without a plant manager (or whatever the company is calling that position now. It seems to change every 6 months or so).
That means his job will be open. I've spoken to a few people at work about who would be the best person for our plant, and whether they'll hire an outsider, or if they'll even hire anyone at all knowing that the site will be sold relatively soon. Surprisingly, like everyone assumes my boss is going to get the head position, they also assume a certain person will take his place.
That person is me.
Whoa.
Okay... I guess it makes sense, since I've been his backup/fill-in/weekend manager for a few years. But I usually focused on keeping the wheels turning, solving personnel and planning issues, scheduling, and dealing with the many mini-crises that occur in day-to-day operations. There is a LOT I don't know. For example, I don't have the horticultural background that others do; the chemistry and scientific nitty-gritty like knowing the ideal temperature ranges for each stage of X plant's growth, or the optimum Klux for said plant. This is one area in which I'm more hands-on than book-smart. Horticulture was never a field I'd considered, therefore I didn't pursue further education on the subject. Or any at all, for that matter.
On the other hand, I have several years' experience at this same plant. My boss thinks I could do it. Other people think I could do it. I think I could do it, too. Thing is, I don't believe I want to. These past couple of weeks have been stressful. Without getting into a lot of detail, I'll just say it's been manic. There is *no way* I can continue doing my own job plus take on all the additional responsibilities of managing our plant and crew full-time. I've been doing that lately, with my boss handling the technical stuff, and even with the two of us sharing the workload it's too much. Something will have to give... unfortunately, we're all stretched so tight now that if something did give we'd be in a world of backlash. Plus, the last person who took this position at another plant didn't get a raise. I'm underpaid NOW; I sure as heck ain't doing more for the same pay. "But it's an opportunity!" Yeah, an opportunity for the company to expect even more than they do without compensating me for it. What they expect now has already pushed my limits to the point where I don't want to do it anymore. A challenge is one thing, but taking full advantage of someone and doing so knowing full well that the person has to go along with it or quit is another thing entirely. And quite a few long-time employees have had enough and quit. I may not be the next one, but if they make it any more difficult I'll be on the short-timer list. I'm sucked dry, y'all. I have to ask myself if it's worth it, and if I am offered the position and decline, how that will affect my current status.
The *only* reason I'd consider it, at this point, is knowing we will have new owners within a few months and I may want to grab it while I can. It will look good on my next resume. ;-)
That means his job will be open. I've spoken to a few people at work about who would be the best person for our plant, and whether they'll hire an outsider, or if they'll even hire anyone at all knowing that the site will be sold relatively soon. Surprisingly, like everyone assumes my boss is going to get the head position, they also assume a certain person will take his place.
That person is me.
Whoa.
Okay... I guess it makes sense, since I've been his backup/fill-in/weekend manager for a few years. But I usually focused on keeping the wheels turning, solving personnel and planning issues, scheduling, and dealing with the many mini-crises that occur in day-to-day operations. There is a LOT I don't know. For example, I don't have the horticultural background that others do; the chemistry and scientific nitty-gritty like knowing the ideal temperature ranges for each stage of X plant's growth, or the optimum Klux for said plant. This is one area in which I'm more hands-on than book-smart. Horticulture was never a field I'd considered, therefore I didn't pursue further education on the subject. Or any at all, for that matter.
On the other hand, I have several years' experience at this same plant. My boss thinks I could do it. Other people think I could do it. I think I could do it, too. Thing is, I don't believe I want to. These past couple of weeks have been stressful. Without getting into a lot of detail, I'll just say it's been manic. There is *no way* I can continue doing my own job plus take on all the additional responsibilities of managing our plant and crew full-time. I've been doing that lately, with my boss handling the technical stuff, and even with the two of us sharing the workload it's too much. Something will have to give... unfortunately, we're all stretched so tight now that if something did give we'd be in a world of backlash. Plus, the last person who took this position at another plant didn't get a raise. I'm underpaid NOW; I sure as heck ain't doing more for the same pay. "But it's an opportunity!" Yeah, an opportunity for the company to expect even more than they do without compensating me for it. What they expect now has already pushed my limits to the point where I don't want to do it anymore. A challenge is one thing, but taking full advantage of someone and doing so knowing full well that the person has to go along with it or quit is another thing entirely. And quite a few long-time employees have had enough and quit. I may not be the next one, but if they make it any more difficult I'll be on the short-timer list. I'm sucked dry, y'all. I have to ask myself if it's worth it, and if I am offered the position and decline, how that will affect my current status.
The *only* reason I'd consider it, at this point, is knowing we will have new owners within a few months and I may want to grab it while I can. It will look good on my next resume. ;-)
Monday, August 14, 2006
Creamsicle, ew!
I used to love Creamsicles. You know, those orange popsicles with vanilla ice cream inside. After today, I'm not sure I want another one for a good long time.
I had to go in for a couple of CAT scans today. I don't have a cat, and I couldn't catch one of the strays out back (suckers are quiiiick*) so I went empty-handed. One empty hand soon held a cup of orange sludge. I'd heard from other people that the dye solution or whatever the heck it is tasted nasty, so I was surprised to find that it looked and tasted just like a giant melted Creamsicle. I hadn't eaten anything since the night before (had to fast for X hours) so it was kinda nice getting to suck down something thick and halfway decent. Like those orange cream milkshakes that Arby's has now.
Anyway, the nice part was short-lived, since as soon as I finished the sludge I was given a second large cup of it. That one was a bit harder to get down. It coated my mouth and I wasn't supposed to have water or anything to cut the film (I always like having a glass of water after ice cream). But I finished it and it still wasn't awful, just a bit heavy. Went back to the prep room and lo and behold, a third cup of sludge awaited me. I chugged it to get it out of the way. Then I got to get an IV hooked up. I was a bit ticked now... I hadn't been told I was getting an IV; I'd thought it was one of those little dye packs they stick in the back of your hand. Nope. The sludge experience was forgotten and I managed to not pass out through the IV process, though there was a tense moment when I had to remind myself out loud to breathe. Thank the Lord I'm not diabetic or anything else that requires daily injections. I'd be a basket case.
After that it was easy. I never have been one of those people who freak out for MRIs; in fact I usually relax to the point of dozing off in the tunnel. The hammer noises are almost hypnotic to me. (I'm one who has fallen asleep in Row 8 at a NASCAR race, without earplugs, so MRI noise is a breeze.) This CAT machine, though, was an open tube and the scans went so quickly I barely had time to snooze. The tech did ask me once if I was asleep. I said yes. ;-P
So... an hour of drinking melted orange cream, five minutes of convincing myself not to go yell at my doctor for not warning me about the IV, and twenty minutes of kicking back in a machine, and I was done. Well, almost. I get the results from one scan at the end of the month and the others whenever my doc looks at them and calls me. I wanna see them too. That's probably the only really cool thing about having almost one's entire body scanned at one point or another. I get to see what I look like on the inside! One of these days I'm going to request copies of everything and make a collage by piecing all the parts together. "Self-Portrait" indeed!
*nod to Foxworthy
I had to go in for a couple of CAT scans today. I don't have a cat, and I couldn't catch one of the strays out back (suckers are quiiiick*) so I went empty-handed. One empty hand soon held a cup of orange sludge. I'd heard from other people that the dye solution or whatever the heck it is tasted nasty, so I was surprised to find that it looked and tasted just like a giant melted Creamsicle. I hadn't eaten anything since the night before (had to fast for X hours) so it was kinda nice getting to suck down something thick and halfway decent. Like those orange cream milkshakes that Arby's has now.
Anyway, the nice part was short-lived, since as soon as I finished the sludge I was given a second large cup of it. That one was a bit harder to get down. It coated my mouth and I wasn't supposed to have water or anything to cut the film (I always like having a glass of water after ice cream). But I finished it and it still wasn't awful, just a bit heavy. Went back to the prep room and lo and behold, a third cup of sludge awaited me. I chugged it to get it out of the way. Then I got to get an IV hooked up. I was a bit ticked now... I hadn't been told I was getting an IV; I'd thought it was one of those little dye packs they stick in the back of your hand. Nope. The sludge experience was forgotten and I managed to not pass out through the IV process, though there was a tense moment when I had to remind myself out loud to breathe. Thank the Lord I'm not diabetic or anything else that requires daily injections. I'd be a basket case.
After that it was easy. I never have been one of those people who freak out for MRIs; in fact I usually relax to the point of dozing off in the tunnel. The hammer noises are almost hypnotic to me. (I'm one who has fallen asleep in Row 8 at a NASCAR race, without earplugs, so MRI noise is a breeze.) This CAT machine, though, was an open tube and the scans went so quickly I barely had time to snooze. The tech did ask me once if I was asleep. I said yes. ;-P
So... an hour of drinking melted orange cream, five minutes of convincing myself not to go yell at my doctor for not warning me about the IV, and twenty minutes of kicking back in a machine, and I was done. Well, almost. I get the results from one scan at the end of the month and the others whenever my doc looks at them and calls me. I wanna see them too. That's probably the only really cool thing about having almost one's entire body scanned at one point or another. I get to see what I look like on the inside! One of these days I'm going to request copies of everything and make a collage by piecing all the parts together. "Self-Portrait" indeed!
*nod to Foxworthy
Friday, August 11, 2006
The Truth Comes Out
This morning started out like any other. I got up and went to work, with a growers' meeting on my agenda followed by working in the poinsettias and doing the usual routine stuff. I know I mentioned our head grower left us; my supervisor has shouldered the majority of his responsibilities, so I've been picking up the daily ops at our plant until our new grower is hired/announced.
Anyway, I got to work this morning to find a note pinned to the office door. It said, in one gal's handwriting, for my boss to be at the 8:30 meeting. In another gal's writing below it was "He won't be in today. E, please meet at Plant 1 breakroom 8:30." I thought we'd just moved the growers' meeting over there for some reason, so off I went.
All the employees were there, along with the site manager and company counselor. We were informed that the northeast division of our company was on the market and they hoped to have a buyer by the end of the year. We'd been hearing rumors, but apparently no one could confirm it until after the shareholders meeting. Our CEO made the official announcement last night after that meeting.
So. We're for sale again. Last time, it was a privately-owned business bought by a large company and merged with other sites to form the regional division. That's when we "went public" and the shareholders came into play. Now, it's one of the largest horticulture companies trying to unload four sites at once. We were told if they couldn't sell it as a package deal, each site would be sold individually. It's all about the bottom line.
Am I worried? On the contrary; I'm optimistic and a bit excited. I think it's about time we get some new blood in there, someone who can revamp the business and sales models and expand our customer base. Maybe fix our benefits so we aren't paying out the nose for them, or have more than just an HMO to choose from. Someone willing to invest not just in materials and equipment, but in the employees as well. Morale is the lowest I've seen in 7 years. We need change, we need incentive, we need a reason to be happy about going to work again. We DON'T want to see the results of our butt-busting hard work going into dumpsters by the truckload. There are some darn good employees (myself included, if I may be so bold) who would be more than willing to continue on provided we don't feel like we're building houses of cards in the eye of a hurricane. And that's what it's been like... just one thing after another, most of it out of our realm of influence. It's so frustrating seeing it happen and not being able to do a thing about it! Maybe the new owners will give us more of a voice... I doubt it, but it could happen. At any rate, I hope they realize the value of our input and (what's left of) our dedication and keep our tight crews together.
If not, I get a six-month paid vacation. Wee!
Anyway, I got to work this morning to find a note pinned to the office door. It said, in one gal's handwriting, for my boss to be at the 8:30 meeting. In another gal's writing below it was "He won't be in today. E, please meet at Plant 1 breakroom 8:30." I thought we'd just moved the growers' meeting over there for some reason, so off I went.
All the employees were there, along with the site manager and company counselor. We were informed that the northeast division of our company was on the market and they hoped to have a buyer by the end of the year. We'd been hearing rumors, but apparently no one could confirm it until after the shareholders meeting. Our CEO made the official announcement last night after that meeting.
So. We're for sale again. Last time, it was a privately-owned business bought by a large company and merged with other sites to form the regional division. That's when we "went public" and the shareholders came into play. Now, it's one of the largest horticulture companies trying to unload four sites at once. We were told if they couldn't sell it as a package deal, each site would be sold individually. It's all about the bottom line.
Am I worried? On the contrary; I'm optimistic and a bit excited. I think it's about time we get some new blood in there, someone who can revamp the business and sales models and expand our customer base. Maybe fix our benefits so we aren't paying out the nose for them, or have more than just an HMO to choose from. Someone willing to invest not just in materials and equipment, but in the employees as well. Morale is the lowest I've seen in 7 years. We need change, we need incentive, we need a reason to be happy about going to work again. We DON'T want to see the results of our butt-busting hard work going into dumpsters by the truckload. There are some darn good employees (myself included, if I may be so bold) who would be more than willing to continue on provided we don't feel like we're building houses of cards in the eye of a hurricane. And that's what it's been like... just one thing after another, most of it out of our realm of influence. It's so frustrating seeing it happen and not being able to do a thing about it! Maybe the new owners will give us more of a voice... I doubt it, but it could happen. At any rate, I hope they realize the value of our input and (what's left of) our dedication and keep our tight crews together.
If not, I get a six-month paid vacation. Wee!
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Of Hoff and Perry
I got laughed at last night. Twice. Why? I was chatting on IM and brought up the Random Question of the Day. In this case, it was:
"Ever look at a celebrity you crushed on way back when and wonder what the heck you were thinking?"
I got laughed at because I said I used to like David Hasselhoff.
Shut UP.
I mean it.
I tried to explain it was all about the car... well, who wouldn't like a guy, stupid hair or not, with a cool car like K.I.T.T.? And Devon had a nice accent. Yet I got laughed at for admitting I once liked the Hoff. I see him now and all I think is- in a word- EW. He doesn't even rate a few extra W's on the end of that EW either. I understand he's quite popular over the pond. I have no idea why; I've seen the videos and EW- followed by stunned disbelief that anyone can deliberately be so cheesy- is my usual reaction.
Another former crush of mine usually meets with agreement. Again, I have no idea why, as he is not what one would consider a stereotypically attractive person. In fact at the height of his popularity he was downright homely. Okay, maybe in the late 70's he was cute in a long-haired femme kind of way (much like Cher) but I came in at the tail end of that party.
I'm talking about Steve Perry, (former) lead singer for Journey. What was it that made him so popular with women? It couldn't have been *just* the voice, though that's what hooked me and kept me on the line for 25 years. And counting.
We liked him through the flamboyant effeminate hippie stage...
The slightly-chubby mullet-and-sideburns stage... (Click here for the ultimate in 80's cheese)...
The Big Hair and Faded Jeans With A Tailcoat era... (Hey, was that in Fresno?)
And the introspective older hippie (AKA the Melancholy) phase...
Then he chopped the hair off again for Gay Part II... We didn't care.
He gained weight... We didn't care.
There were more phases in between, like the transitional one from 70's to 80's and the One With The Hat from the Street Talk time. Through all his looks, a lot of women of my era, when hearing the name "Steve Perry," will say "Ooooh, he was so CUTE!" Some of them say that about him now. Ladies, once a man is in his 50's, calling him cute just seems weird.
I just don't know what the attraction was. Maybe the Portuguese looks? I know I crushed on a few guys just because they resembled him. (One of them, I believe, was a relative of his, though the guy never would tell me.) As far as I know, none of them could sing. Thus my interest was short-lived.
It had to be the combination of soulful vocals, unique persona and perhaps those cupids-bow lips, added to his dynamic stage presence and oh yeah, those tuxedo tails. With jeans and sneakers, no less. Whatever it was, mix it all up with a little bit of undefinable magnetism, a dab of Cheez Whiz and cream rinse by the gallon and there you go. Few did it like Steve Perry did, and that kind of unexplainable phenomenon may never be deciphered.
Gotta go... there's some Strange Medicine on the player, begging me to close my eyes and get lost in the music again. And a note to Steve: I don't care if you gain a hundred pounds, shave your head and wear polka-dotted pajamas... just SING, man! Sing already! I promise we'll fall in love with you all over again. History proves this to be true.
And stop laughing at me. For all I know, Steve Perry has a cool car too.
Before I go, here's one of my favorite Journey songs.
*Images cribbed from Google... if one is yours, drop me a line and I'll credit you for it.
"Ever look at a celebrity you crushed on way back when and wonder what the heck you were thinking?"
I got laughed at because I said I used to like David Hasselhoff.
Shut UP.
I mean it.
I tried to explain it was all about the car... well, who wouldn't like a guy, stupid hair or not, with a cool car like K.I.T.T.? And Devon had a nice accent. Yet I got laughed at for admitting I once liked the Hoff. I see him now and all I think is- in a word- EW. He doesn't even rate a few extra W's on the end of that EW either. I understand he's quite popular over the pond. I have no idea why; I've seen the videos and EW- followed by stunned disbelief that anyone can deliberately be so cheesy- is my usual reaction.
Another former crush of mine usually meets with agreement. Again, I have no idea why, as he is not what one would consider a stereotypically attractive person. In fact at the height of his popularity he was downright homely. Okay, maybe in the late 70's he was cute in a long-haired femme kind of way (much like Cher) but I came in at the tail end of that party.
I'm talking about Steve Perry, (former) lead singer for Journey. What was it that made him so popular with women? It couldn't have been *just* the voice, though that's what hooked me and kept me on the line for 25 years. And counting.
We liked him through the flamboyant effeminate hippie stage...
The slightly-chubby mullet-and-sideburns stage... (Click here for the ultimate in 80's cheese)...
The Big Hair and Faded Jeans With A Tailcoat era... (Hey, was that in Fresno?)
And the introspective older hippie (AKA the Melancholy) phase...
Then he chopped the hair off again for Gay Part II... We didn't care.
He gained weight... We didn't care.
There were more phases in between, like the transitional one from 70's to 80's and the One With The Hat from the Street Talk time. Through all his looks, a lot of women of my era, when hearing the name "Steve Perry," will say "Ooooh, he was so CUTE!" Some of them say that about him now. Ladies, once a man is in his 50's, calling him cute just seems weird.
I just don't know what the attraction was. Maybe the Portuguese looks? I know I crushed on a few guys just because they resembled him. (One of them, I believe, was a relative of his, though the guy never would tell me.) As far as I know, none of them could sing. Thus my interest was short-lived.
It had to be the combination of soulful vocals, unique persona and perhaps those cupids-bow lips, added to his dynamic stage presence and oh yeah, those tuxedo tails. With jeans and sneakers, no less. Whatever it was, mix it all up with a little bit of undefinable magnetism, a dab of Cheez Whiz and cream rinse by the gallon and there you go. Few did it like Steve Perry did, and that kind of unexplainable phenomenon may never be deciphered.
Gotta go... there's some Strange Medicine on the player, begging me to close my eyes and get lost in the music again. And a note to Steve: I don't care if you gain a hundred pounds, shave your head and wear polka-dotted pajamas... just SING, man! Sing already! I promise we'll fall in love with you all over again. History proves this to be true.
And stop laughing at me. For all I know, Steve Perry has a cool car too.
Before I go, here's one of my favorite Journey songs.
*Images cribbed from Google... if one is yours, drop me a line and I'll credit you for it.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Lucky Seven... I Think
This week marks 7 years at my current job. I was only hired for two weeks, as a temp to help out with the baby poinsettias. On my first day, I met my future husband... here it is, seven years later, and today I did the exact same thing I was doing when I first started. I'm with the same man. I even have the same car! (Still have the first ball cap I wore there, hanging in the closet... it has "bite me" written on the back in black Sharpie.)
Once I decided to move here, I said I would stay for a few months to see if I liked it. My whole life was changing and I wasn't about to commit to a job I'd gotten just to make some quick cash. A few months later, I said I'd give it a year. Then I said if my friend and mentor, the woman who hired me, ever quit I'd be out the door behind her since it wouldn't be the same. Instead, I took over her job when she did leave. I learned that I was pretty good at it, although I still couldn't see myself making it a long-term position. At the time, every employee who reached a milestone (5,10, 15 years, etc) was awarded their choice of company-logo items. I always liked the stereotype of a business giving an employee a watch and there was one I liked in the awards book, so I started saying "I'm stayin' till I get my watch." Six months prior to my five-year anniversary, they canceled the awards program. No watch, but I did have health and vision insurance for myself and my husband, so I kept on.
At our "Rewards and Recognition" employee meeting today, when my name was called by the site manager to acknowledge my anniversary, I asked "Am I up for parole yet?" She rolled her eyes while the other manager laughed. I must say, though, it was nice to hear how many people clapped when my name was called. The managers didn't have to encourage anyone to do it. That's a pretty good feeling. It's their anniversary too... they've put up with me for quite a while! (My sarcasm and occasional indignation don't always go over well.)
So... I've served seven years of an open-ended sentence. I get time off for good behavior in December. I still want that watch, though. Maybe in another three years...?
Once I decided to move here, I said I would stay for a few months to see if I liked it. My whole life was changing and I wasn't about to commit to a job I'd gotten just to make some quick cash. A few months later, I said I'd give it a year. Then I said if my friend and mentor, the woman who hired me, ever quit I'd be out the door behind her since it wouldn't be the same. Instead, I took over her job when she did leave. I learned that I was pretty good at it, although I still couldn't see myself making it a long-term position. At the time, every employee who reached a milestone (5,10, 15 years, etc) was awarded their choice of company-logo items. I always liked the stereotype of a business giving an employee a watch and there was one I liked in the awards book, so I started saying "I'm stayin' till I get my watch." Six months prior to my five-year anniversary, they canceled the awards program. No watch, but I did have health and vision insurance for myself and my husband, so I kept on.
At our "Rewards and Recognition" employee meeting today, when my name was called by the site manager to acknowledge my anniversary, I asked "Am I up for parole yet?" She rolled her eyes while the other manager laughed. I must say, though, it was nice to hear how many people clapped when my name was called. The managers didn't have to encourage anyone to do it. That's a pretty good feeling. It's their anniversary too... they've put up with me for quite a while! (My sarcasm and occasional indignation don't always go over well.)
So... I've served seven years of an open-ended sentence. I get time off for good behavior in December. I still want that watch, though. Maybe in another three years...?
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Christmas in July!
End of the season... seems a long way off!Ironically (or not- 'tis the season, after all) we just got our first set of poinsettias at work this week. They've actually been on-site for a while, but my section gets them after the plugs are potted. Hence, Christmas in July. That's one reason I think the people who want to acknowledge the unholiday are nuts. Freaking poinsettias! Ugh.
I spent the better part of the morning babysitting a trio who were, hands down, the least motivated (read: lazy) employees I've ever seen there. On top of that, they took half-hour breaks, went to the bathroom as a group, and did not even attempt to do even the simplest tasks correctly despite having them personally demonstrated (repeatedly) and with people standing next to them watching! They just laughed and continued to goof off. As a result, several areas had to be moved and re-spaced by crew leaders and myself, and the site manager made an appearance to check out the situation. I understand that the unwiseguys will not have jobs tomorrow. Ouch! (By the way, I had nothing to do with that. Their crew is under different leadership. I was attempting, unsuccessfully, to train them since their own crew leader refused to even speak to them anymore. That should have been my first clue.) Merry Christmas, guys.
The rest of the day was spent in the by-now-familiar hectic frenzy known as Day One. Set down, hand-feed, rinse, repeat. Drag hoses. Set mist clocks. Watch mist cycle. Get everyone wet when mist goes off without warning. Adjust leaves, adjust pots, adjust valves, adjust mist, adjust hoses... by the time we're done, everything is well-adjusted except us. We're frazzled.
I will say, though, that the closest thing I personally have to a "maternal instinct" kicks in when the new little points arrive. They are my babies; I worry about them. I did not like leaving today, not being there to watch over them and make sure they were all getting their mist on time and getting fed and so on. As much as I hate the interminable green growing stage of poinsettias, I love the beginning. I love movingmovingmoving, setting everything up, all the details that ensure a healthy start. Once they're esablished I'll go into Hate Mode, which will increase a hundredfold by the time December rolls around and I've decided which lucky plant gets to be stomped at the end of the season. Poinsettia stomping should be sanctioned by our company, it really should. There would be a lot fewer agitated employees going spastic after looking at the %$&# things for 6 months straight. I know it always makes me feel better!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Down on Main Street
I was just reading another blog, and one line caught my attention. The writer said "I've never lived on Main Street before."
I wonder what the odds are that any of us will, at any point in our lives, reside on Main Street. Almost every town and city, borough and hamlet has a Main Street. Here in Pennsylvania, the odds are about the same as living on Railroad Street, since every town* seems to have one of those as well. We've been living on Main Street for over six years, but I never really thought about it before. It is kinda cool. Most Main Streets are downtown (or what passes for it in our case) right in the heart of the population. Our "city limits" total one square mile. Main Street becomes Route Such-and-Such on either end of the mile, so there isn't a whole lot of street to our main.
If there is an American small-town common denominator, this is it. Main is what it says; no originality there. But in most cases, that will be the hub of the community. Even though our borough is tiny it's still true. I can walk to wherever I need; the little local grocery, post office, gas station, sub shop, firehall, bank, and church. Anyone who drives through has to cross our road or go along it. Our porch looks over the street; people honk and wave at us as they go by, parades turn the corner in front of the firehall next door, high-school sports teams ride up and down after a victory cheering and blasting sirens, Amish buggies drive by en route to one farm or another. Always something happening here on Main Street in spite of this being a wee little farm town without any fast-food places, chain stores, bars, or an actual traffic light. (Ours is just a flashing light at the four-way stop.) I like it here. It has its drawbacks and I'd hate living on Main in a more urban area but this... this is okay. We won't stay here forever but for now I like being part of American nostalgia and tradition.
*Yes, I know there is only one designated "town" in PA. But it's easier to say town than to figure out which is a hamlet, burg, borough, township, etc. For the record, ours is a borough.
Main street isn't main street anymore
Lights don't shine as brightly as they shone before
Tell the truth, lights don't shine at all
In our town
Sun comes up each morning
Just like it's always done
Get up, go to work, start the day,
Open up for business that's never gonna come
As the world rolls by a million miles away
Main street isn't main street anymore
No one seems to need us like they did before
It's hard to find a reason left to stay
But it's our town
Love it anyway
Come what may, it's our town.
~James Taylor, "Our Town"
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Bad Week, Good Week
Bad:
Ah well, in the grand scheme of things it's all trivial. "And this, too, shall pass..."
Where's the ice?
- It's been miserably hot.
- I've been working in the fields since Tuesday. Add "miserably hot" to "standing on black plastic mats in the sun all day." Yuck.
- I got sunburned too, in spite of using sunblock. It isn't very effective when you're in among sprinklers. (FYI, the water is warm too. Double yuck.)
- Our head grower, the guy who handles all the Big Important Stuff, just took another job and will be leaving in a couple of weeks. Nobody knows who will replace him.
- The Bronco is injured. There is a 2-foot-long gouge in the right-rear fender, not just to the paint but the metal is even pushed in along the gouge. The fender trim is bent too.
- Stepped on a tomato hornworm. ICK ICK ICK ICK
- My boss is back, yay! Had enough stress the last two weeks; he can have it back now. I don't want it!
- My eagles are back! That's the best part of being in the fields, seeing the critters, and especially the golden eagles. They're nesting again this year! Got a great show today when one of them was doing lazy circles over the fields. Usually I hear them but don't see them; today was exceptional.
- Got a private message from a semi-famous singer. Coolness...
- Also got several songs I'd never heard before from a particular demo tape and spent a while rockin' out.
- Hubby and I cooked dinner together tonight. We should do that more often, we always have fun!
- Supposed to drop down into the 80s for a cold snap. ;-P At this point I'll take it.
- My own swimming pool
- A trip to Alaska
- Ice
- Better air conditioning at home
- ANY cool air at work
- Going to the movies just cause I always freeze in there
Ah well, in the grand scheme of things it's all trivial. "And this, too, shall pass..."
Where's the ice?
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
No chains, same Mr. T!
Just ran across this blog post and simply had to share it! If you're a child of the 80's you'll appreciate this.
If you could ask Mr. T a question, would you get the best response EVER?
I pity the fool!
;-)
If you could ask Mr. T a question, would you get the best response EVER?
I pity the fool!
;-)
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sun-derful Days!
It's hot out there. I don't mean typical summertime heat, but muggy sticky swim-through-the-air humid and temps in the 90s to boot. "Welcome to the Jungle" is (once again) my theme song for working in a greenhouse. I must be crazy! Heat is supposed to continue most of this week... bleah.
However, I didn't work today. Yay! Hubby and I went in search of sweet corn, since the fella we usually buy it from has been sold out and packed up rather early all week. We headed over to the flea and farmer's market in Lewisburg. Lo and behold, ONE vendor still had butter & sugar sweet corn! We bought two dozen ears. Our plan is to spend tomorrow evening (once it cools down) washing our patio furniture and hosing off the porch, then we're going to have BBQ sandwiches and corn outside. We also bought sweet cherries and plums.
While in Lewisburg we stopped for lunch and ran into my aunt and uncle, whom we haven't seen since Christmas. After lunch hubby and I went to their house for iced tea and a nice chat. We took over some perennials and I got the landscape tour. Aunt has so many plants and flowers in her yard! I want to see it next spring when all her tulips come up. She also gave me some photos, one of hubby and I from Christmas and an old one of my grandparents that I'd never seen. It was nice to visit with them again!
A while later, as we were making our usual round of the car dealerships, we stopped at one of the many "dairy bars" in the area. I had a real vanilla malt, something I love and rarely find anymore. (Side note: Sonic's malts are horrible. Once you've had a real one you'll know what I mean.) Then we cruised over to drop in on some friends, gave them some corn and made tentative plans to get together next weekend.
Quote of the week: Hubby and I were talking about the folks that live near the golf course. I mentioned that we should have bought a house that was for sale there before all the commercial development came in and drove the prices up, and he said no, because of all the wayward golf balls. He told me he's delivered to people there with dents in their siding and garages, a guy who boarded up one of his windows because he was tired of replacing it, and a woman who went outside to pick up all the golf balls in her yard before he arrived so he wouldn't slip on any while delivering her treadmill. Hubby summarized-deadpan- "The problem is, golfers... are bad golfers."
Maybe you had to be there, but it was so true (for the most part) that I'm still laughing about it. I just think of the time when I was driving down the highway by the course and saw a golf ball go by. I think it was speeding. ;-)
Monday, July 10, 2006
R.I.P
Earnest W. Reece 1913-2006
My husband's grandfather passed away on Saturday at age 93. Pop-Pop was quite a character who always had a story to tell! B last saw him on Pop's birthday last month; they had cake and talked and Pop was his feisty self. He was much loved by his family and I'm sure he'll find an audience waiting in Heaven!
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Aren't you lucky!
After reading several message boards and catching up on everything Journey post-Steve Perry, I wrote out a nice long diatribe on the subject. I accidentally clicked "save draft" instead of "post" and I don't feel like re-reading it right now, so you all get this instead:
* Winning at carnival bingo is nice. Spending most of the winnings to continue playing bingo is kind of silly. Doesn't matter though, I like playing bingo (I call it "practicing for old age") and I like supporting the local fire company. Aside: the firemen left their posts in the middle of the carnival to go on a call. Nobody complained. We love our volunteers!
* How is it possible to have "too much mud" for a 4x4 truck jamboree?
* Learning experience: flamethrower + weeds = bad smell. And a lot of smoke.
* Learning experience, part II: flamethrower ignition device + wood office wall = oops. See above appreciation for firemen.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses I: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong... the day the boss goes on vacation.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses II: your main water source will be shut off indefinitely on the worst possible day. See above.
* Every good business or product name is already taken, by a business or product that has nothing to do with your own.
* XM station 49 (Big Tracks) is my current favorite. Also have the song "Brick House" stuck in my head right now.
We're off to Chryslers at Carlisle! Hope the campground isn't flooded. "No open flame" rule sucks, but in light of previous events, probably a good thing. ;-P
* Winning at carnival bingo is nice. Spending most of the winnings to continue playing bingo is kind of silly. Doesn't matter though, I like playing bingo (I call it "practicing for old age") and I like supporting the local fire company. Aside: the firemen left their posts in the middle of the carnival to go on a call. Nobody complained. We love our volunteers!
* How is it possible to have "too much mud" for a 4x4 truck jamboree?
* Learning experience: flamethrower + weeds = bad smell. And a lot of smoke.
* Learning experience, part II: flamethrower ignition device + wood office wall = oops. See above appreciation for firemen.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses I: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong... the day the boss goes on vacation.
* CJ's Law of Greenhouses II: your main water source will be shut off indefinitely on the worst possible day. See above.
* Every good business or product name is already taken, by a business or product that has nothing to do with your own.
* XM station 49 (Big Tracks) is my current favorite. Also have the song "Brick House" stuck in my head right now.
We're off to Chryslers at Carlisle! Hope the campground isn't flooded. "No open flame" rule sucks, but in light of previous events, probably a good thing. ;-P
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
No-Name Flood
That's right... unlike Agnes in 1972, and Ivan a couple years ago, the PA Flood of 2006 doesn't have a name. Going by river levels, it's the third-worst on record. But it wasn't caused by any named storm, therefore has no title to attach to it.
I think I'm going to call it the Reality Check Flood of 06. In my eyes, that's exactly what it was. Anyone who thinks they're inconvenienced because the closest store is out of your favorite brand of soda, try dealing with having no WATER for several days. Parts of Bloomsburg had the water shut off due to a main break during the flood; people have had to get their drinking water from container trucks. There's a food distribution tent set up just off Main Street. The street is lined with industrial-sized dumpsters now full of belongings, furniture, and debris people are hauling out of their soggy homes. There are more piles of stuff in yards. Cars are sitting with their doors open as owners hope their vehicles will dry out and be salvageable. Windows are open, fans are on, cleanup has begun. It's incredibly sad and shocking.
In all, it's mostly material objects that can be replaced or done without. But it's also homes ruined, lives disrupted, more than a minor inconvenience when people either can't get to work or have to call off or even work around their job hours so they can rip out the drywall and cart waterlogged items outside and take photos for insurance claims and make sure their kids aren't playing in contaminated runoff and bleach everything to stave off mold and feed their families from outdoor grills or Salvation Army donations and try to somehow keep on keeping on.
Granted, our flood was nowhere near the magnitude of Katrina. I hope there never is another on that scale. But it's devastating all the same, especially when it hits home and involves people I know. Therefore, Reality Check '06. The wake-up call to tell us that disaster can happen to anyone, anywhere, even in our own backyards; a lesson for those who weren't around for the other big floods and a reminder to those who were.
And to cap it all, we're still getting rain off and on.
Hey God, we're awake now. Can you fix that leak in the sky, please? Thanks!
I think I'm going to call it the Reality Check Flood of 06. In my eyes, that's exactly what it was. Anyone who thinks they're inconvenienced because the closest store is out of your favorite brand of soda, try dealing with having no WATER for several days. Parts of Bloomsburg had the water shut off due to a main break during the flood; people have had to get their drinking water from container trucks. There's a food distribution tent set up just off Main Street. The street is lined with industrial-sized dumpsters now full of belongings, furniture, and debris people are hauling out of their soggy homes. There are more piles of stuff in yards. Cars are sitting with their doors open as owners hope their vehicles will dry out and be salvageable. Windows are open, fans are on, cleanup has begun. It's incredibly sad and shocking.
In all, it's mostly material objects that can be replaced or done without. But it's also homes ruined, lives disrupted, more than a minor inconvenience when people either can't get to work or have to call off or even work around their job hours so they can rip out the drywall and cart waterlogged items outside and take photos for insurance claims and make sure their kids aren't playing in contaminated runoff and bleach everything to stave off mold and feed their families from outdoor grills or Salvation Army donations and try to somehow keep on keeping on.
Granted, our flood was nowhere near the magnitude of Katrina. I hope there never is another on that scale. But it's devastating all the same, especially when it hits home and involves people I know. Therefore, Reality Check '06. The wake-up call to tell us that disaster can happen to anyone, anywhere, even in our own backyards; a lesson for those who weren't around for the other big floods and a reminder to those who were.
And to cap it all, we're still getting rain off and on.
Hey God, we're awake now. Can you fix that leak in the sky, please? Thanks!
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Flood 06
Pennsylvania is wet, y'all. Just about all of it got some damage from the rain, in the form of road closings, washouts, and mostly flooding. A lot of areas have been evacuated. The northeastern part of the state seems to have been hit the hardest; we're just on the edge between NEPA and the central valley region. Below are some photos I took today of our region.
This used to be someone's enclosed porch, judging by the lamp and the ceiling fan.
Sign O' The Day!
The Twin Bridges were recently restored. The hubby and I have been across this set of covered bridges and fished just above them. This is all I could find of the west-side bridge.
East Paden Twin Bridge and the foundation of the now-gone West bridge.
The Susquehanna River invades Bloomsburg.
One of many.
Talk about an opportunist! :-)
Tree down on power lines over flooded road = not good.
Used to be a road on the left and ball field on the right. Now it's been claimed by the Susquehanna overflowing its banks.
This used to be someone's enclosed porch, judging by the lamp and the ceiling fan.
Sign O' The Day!
The Twin Bridges were recently restored. The hubby and I have been across this set of covered bridges and fished just above them. This is all I could find of the west-side bridge.
East Paden Twin Bridge and the foundation of the now-gone West bridge.
The Susquehanna River invades Bloomsburg.
One of many.
Talk about an opportunist! :-)
Tree down on power lines over flooded road = not good.
Used to be a road on the left and ball field on the right. Now it's been claimed by the Susquehanna overflowing its banks.Some of the things we saw today... cows standing in water up to their knees, campers and trailers submerged, cars washed off the road, roads caving in and crumbling, mud and rock slides, downed trees everywhere, houses with water up to the windows, washed-out bridges, fast-moving muddy water, people in town with everything that was in their basements and on the first floors piled under tarps in their yards... and our area wasn't even the hardest-hit. We are very fortunate that where we live seems to be above the flood plain. Our creek was high but never reached the road; other places here were flooded (including my dad's house; he had a creek running across his driveway) but right at our place everything stayed above water.
The folks who were flooded could sure use some prayers.
More news and photos: www.wnep.com
The folks who were flooded could sure use some prayers.
More news and photos: www.wnep.com
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Eh Day
Weekend roundup:
- Went to Carlisle on Sunday for the GM show. It was mostly rainy and we got soaked to the bone, then froze in the Waffle House air conditioning. The chili we ordered wasn't heated up enough, but the coffee was good and I finally got a great slice of lemon pie.
- Got chills on the way home; stopped and bought a cheap throw blanket to wrap up in.
- Felt like poo the rest of the night, all day Monday, and called off work today. Everything either hurts or feels like it's 15 pounds heavier than it should be. My back is killing me, my glands are swollen and painful, and I have a headache. I hate it.
- Speaking of rain, it's weathering out there again today. It's supposed to rain every day this week, anywhere from a 60% to a 100% chance from now through the weekend. This does not bode well for our plan to camp at the cabin Sunday night. Hubby wants to waterproof our tent, but we have no place to set it up where it won't be in the rain so he can do that.
- I learned how to use a morphing program I got with my editing software. Hubby's sister and her roommate were here visiting from North Carolina; we took pics of them and the dog and kitten they brought along and made some funny morphs. B's sis was leaving earlier than we thought. It was nice to see her and her friend for a while; glad we got to visit before they left for home. Last time we were down South we didn't make it to their place.
- We let my 16-year-old brother drive down to Harrisburg and back, his first time driving in city traffic. In the rain, no less. He did okay, only a couple of times when the clench factor zoomed up to 8 or 9. B was navigating, Dad was explaining various driving techniques, and I was in charge of bopping my brother in the back of the head. ;-P
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
He's a Dream!
When I was younger I said I'd never get married. As I got a bit older, I changed my mind, but in my dreams I wasn't going to get hitched to any old Joe Shmoe. Like a lot of fantasy-obsessed young women, I dreamed of being a "kept woman," married to a wealthy, gorgeous underwear-model-type who gave me everything I wanted and took me on exotic trips. Other women would fawn over my man and tell me how fortunate I was to have him.
And then I woke up.
And married Joe Shmoe... but you know what?
I'm a kept woman. He keeps me safe and happy. He keeps my car running, keeps the rent paid, keeps track of things I forget, keeps me laughing, and keeps coming home every night after work.
He's wealthy. He has unlimited smiles, hugs, kisses, and love for me. He has a rich sense of humor and a heart of gold. He gives me everything I could want from a partner, husband, and friend.
To me, he's gorgeous. He has blue eyes and great hair and long legs and looks mighty fine in a cowboy hat and boots. Just ask Mom... ;-P
Other women love him. Our nieces run straight for him when he shows up, grab him and vie for his attention. My best friend wants to clone him. My relatives tell me I'm lucky to have him.
We go on unusual trips all the time. On our honeymoon, he took me fishing in a rainstorm. We went to the Philadelphia Asian and Italian districts, plus rode in an ambulance to the ER, for our first anniversary. We've slept in the back of a pickup at a NASCAR race, floated down a creek in a rowboat with hundreds of bats flying around us, challenged the suspension on our other truck getting to a cabin in the Smokies, been serenaded on the stage at the Grand Ole Opry (during tourist hours), come out ahead in Atlantic City, nearly got steamrollered by a pro wrestler at a match, and walked on a southern beach in shorts on New Years Day while our northern relatives were shoveling snow. We've been stranded in a broken-down vehicle more than once, climbed down a mountain in a snowstorm (lugging a deer), and seen the World's Largest Pothole. No shortage of excitement there.
And as for the underwear-model part... I buy him new underwear, he wears them. What more could I ask for?
Our anniversary is in a couple of weeks and not once in the four years we've been married or the seven years we've been together have I regretted anything. In fact, I believe my dream came true. Funny how that works!
LOVE YOU HUNNY!!! XXXOOO
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
A visit from the Queen
Our bucolic area isn't exactly on a list of Greatest Places to Visit. The local college isn't on Playboy's Party List. In fact, the only list we've made recently (that I know of) is 100 Weirdest Places to Visit, and that wasn't even us, it was a nearby town with an underground mine fire that's been burning for decades.
Needless to say, celebrity spotting just doesn't happen here. Maybe there are local celebs who keep a low profile (Jack Palance) or former residents stopping by (Mike Mussina) but you'll never hear of someone running into, say, Julia Roberts or even heirhead Paris Hilton (who seems to be EVERYwhere). Sometimes during Fair Week a musical guest will turn up in the Big Town, but they're usually good ol' boys like everyone else.
Somehow, though, we rated a regal visit by her Highness, Queen Oprah of the Media. Yes, Oprah Winfrey and entourage were "just passing through" and stopped at the area's classiest restaurant (natch) for some grub. Okay... nobody "just passes through" here. Turns out the Divine Miss O is documenting a road trip slated to be aired as a segment this fall. She was en route to New York; apparently someone in her group called the restaurant and made reservations for 20 people for lunch using his/her own name, and no one at the restaurant knew it was for Oprah until she walked in the door. Also not known is whether any footage was shot during her stop that might make it to air.
Restaurant owner Marty Walzer said he didn't know why Oprah chose his restaurant for dinner. "I'm almost guessing they found our Web page," he speculated. But he's not complaining.
"What could be more pleasing than to be able to show some small gesture of service to someone who has done as much as Oprah has for so many people?" said Mr. Walzer. "We were certainly very pleased and thrilled she would get that far off the interstate to eat lunch here." (source: Daily Item)
The wait staff said Oprah didn't stay long, but did pose for pictures and "left a nice tip."
Here's my six degrees: one of the gentlemen who waited on Oprah is the brother of a guy I used to work with, and I once helped on a catering job for that restaurant. (My boss's wife used to be a manager there.) So any far-flung connection I have comes through my own place of work, which has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Oprah... unless she wants to do a segment on ballooning health-insurance premiums in high-risk labor jobs. Or investigate the mysterious "purple haze" that the large plant across the street swears is an "air inversion," not the crap they pump into the environment that makes us all choke and wheeze and tear up instantly. But I digress....
This apparently isn't her first trip to this area. My husband is from a town about 15 minutes away. He told me back when the newly-redesigned Ford Thunderbirds came out (the retro-looking ones) Oprah was looking for one in a certain color. The dealership in his hometown had one, so she went there to buy it. I haven't verified this but someone said it was a turquoise T-Bird and that sounds very Oprah-ish to me so I'm going with it.
I wish I had a new T-Bird...
Needless to say, celebrity spotting just doesn't happen here. Maybe there are local celebs who keep a low profile (Jack Palance) or former residents stopping by (Mike Mussina) but you'll never hear of someone running into, say, Julia Roberts or even heirhead Paris Hilton (who seems to be EVERYwhere). Sometimes during Fair Week a musical guest will turn up in the Big Town, but they're usually good ol' boys like everyone else.
Somehow, though, we rated a regal visit by her Highness, Queen Oprah of the Media. Yes, Oprah Winfrey and entourage were "just passing through" and stopped at the area's classiest restaurant (natch) for some grub. Okay... nobody "just passes through" here. Turns out the Divine Miss O is documenting a road trip slated to be aired as a segment this fall. She was en route to New York; apparently someone in her group called the restaurant and made reservations for 20 people for lunch using his/her own name, and no one at the restaurant knew it was for Oprah until she walked in the door. Also not known is whether any footage was shot during her stop that might make it to air.
Restaurant owner Marty Walzer said he didn't know why Oprah chose his restaurant for dinner. "I'm almost guessing they found our Web page," he speculated. But he's not complaining.
"What could be more pleasing than to be able to show some small gesture of service to someone who has done as much as Oprah has for so many people?" said Mr. Walzer. "We were certainly very pleased and thrilled she would get that far off the interstate to eat lunch here." (source: Daily Item)
The wait staff said Oprah didn't stay long, but did pose for pictures and "left a nice tip."
Here's my six degrees: one of the gentlemen who waited on Oprah is the brother of a guy I used to work with, and I once helped on a catering job for that restaurant. (My boss's wife used to be a manager there.) So any far-flung connection I have comes through my own place of work, which has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with Oprah... unless she wants to do a segment on ballooning health-insurance premiums in high-risk labor jobs. Or investigate the mysterious "purple haze" that the large plant across the street swears is an "air inversion," not the crap they pump into the environment that makes us all choke and wheeze and tear up instantly. But I digress....
This apparently isn't her first trip to this area. My husband is from a town about 15 minutes away. He told me back when the newly-redesigned Ford Thunderbirds came out (the retro-looking ones) Oprah was looking for one in a certain color. The dealership in his hometown had one, so she went there to buy it. I haven't verified this but someone said it was a turquoise T-Bird and that sounds very Oprah-ish to me so I'm going with it.
I wish I had a new T-Bird...
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