At least I think it's a tick. I could be better at identifying bugs. Nevertheless, we had a stowaway --- this tick was clinging to one of the raspberries I picked from out in the yard. I found him when I rinsed the berries. Ironically, right around the time I discovered, squashed, and photographed this guy, another tick found my brother while he was working and bit him. I got lucky, especially given the pregnancy. God only knows what would happen if I got Lyme Disease or some other such vectored illness at 22 weeks.
7.31.2008
Surprise Raspberries
The previous owners of our house planted quite a garden here. I didn't know we had a raspberry bush at the southwest corner of the sun porch until I found them ripening right after we moved in.
Raspberries, rinsed
They never made it to the torte I wanted to make. I hurt my back that weekend and was laid up, so the berries got moldy before I was well enough to do anything with them. A shame, but the birds and squirrels enjoyed them.
Kitchen Stove with Robot
Getting to know the new house. I liked the light from the fixture over the stove.
7.17.2008
32 Hours Outside
My kitten, who is no longer a kitten but is still my kitten, did not fare well at first in our move. Aaron and I put the three cats in the basement at his condo while the movers took the furniture out of the first and second floors. They were nearly done and ready to move onto the basement when Aaron opened the basement door and Rococo bolted. She came tearing into the living room, but everything was gone. She then tried to go upstairs, but the movers were carrying down a dresser. She didn't try to go out the open front door, but started freaking out and tearing around the living room.
We tried to catch her, but that wasn't the best idea, clearly. Even more agitated, Rococo ran full speed for the back door, which was open to the screen door. She realized the screen was closed and jumped about four feet off the ground, hitting the door and knocking it clear off its track. The door popped forward and hit the railing, with Coco riding it the whole way down. She hit the screen with all four feet, bounced off of it, and ran around the house and out of sight.
This was at 12:15 pm. We'd been up since 4:15 am. The movers were at the house since 9:30 am and the end was nowhere in sight. We had the walkthrough for the new house at 12:45 and the closing at 1:30. A search party was mobilized and we searched for the cat until it was time to go to the walkthrough and closing.
I went back and searched a few times, gave all the neighbors my contact info and described Rococo. I had no faith that she'd return, and cried bitterly the entire way to the closing. And a few times on Saturday. I had planned everything so carefully to coordinate every detail so no issues would arise during what was a very full and hectic day. And here was the one thing I couldn't have accounted for, and the one thing I wanted to fix more than anything. And I couldn't.
The good thing about living around a bunch of older single women with cats is that they empathized. I was really touched by their willingness to help. And sure enough, when Rococo emerged at 8 pm the next night, being stalked of course by three big feral cats who hang out around the condo, Barbara called me and we came to get Rococo back.
However, getting her back wasn't easy. It took almost 45 minutes and a few deep painful scratches to finally catch her and get Rococo into her carrier. Aaron and I both were covered in dirt from trying to coax the cat out from under a porch and blood ran down my arm, but we got her back. What I didn't realize until the next day is that Rococo had badly cut the paw pads on her two front feet. That explained not only why she was so ginger on her feet, but also why she fought me so hard when I tried to hold her.
Fortunately, Rococo's feet are healing. She's no longer limping and other than managing to pick up fleas (for which we had to treat the other two cats) she seems fine. In fact, strangely, it seems like Rococo's misadventure has helped. She is so happy to be home, and the cats aren't fighting anymore like they were.
The best part is that although I unfairly blamed him for even opening the damned basement door in the first place, Aaron totally pulled through for me. We worked together to deal with an upsetting situation on a difficult day. And it worked out. Good practice, I guess.
Other Moving Fiascos
The other moving fiascos we ran into are oddly along the same theme: money, and people trying to screw us out of what is ours. Neither Aaron nor I are cheap. But we're not willing to be bilked either:
--- I'm going to be gentle, since this is a public forum and stranger things have been known to happen. However, there ended up being a three-week-long battle over an escrow. The situation was resolved today, totally in our favor, but I loathe the people who thought they could take advantage of us and I'm working on forgiving them.
--- Along those lines, I'm extending my ill will toward subcontractors who try to take advantage of homeowners. I had a very ubiquitous local plumbing outfit in to my home to find out why the central Air Conditioning unit in the basement was leaking. I was told by one person that we could service the unit, but that would cost a couple grand, and the coil was filthy, and the previous owners hadn't serviced it in forever. So it was better to just replace the whole thing. For between 7k and 10k. Yeah, go fuck yourself.
Another guy from the same outfit opined that it might not be the AC causing the leak, but a cracked floor drain. But I'd need a videocamera and a jackhammer to record where the water was seeping in from, and to determine exactly where the crack was coming from. Do I look stupid, or do they do this to everyone? I almost threw him bodily out of my house.
Then my wonderful cousin Angelo came over and determined that it was a broken condensate pump (an $80 part) and it's an easy fix. So I called Superior Comfort from Bristol, Rhode Island. I will name Superior Comfort here because I would recommend them to anyone. Two hours and $257 later, I got a new condensate pump, a freshly scrubbed coil, and a little silicone to repair a small crack in a pipe. Problem SOLVED. No more water leaking all over the floor.
--- The upshot of these two stories is that people are always trying to screw other people. So you get defensive and try to screw before you get screwed. Or at least just try to not get screwed. But seriously, it's hateful. Is it because so much money is involved in buying and selling houses that it brings out the worst in people? Is it because our homes are also invested with emotion for us? Or is the emotional connection tied up with the expense that turns it, synergistically, into something larger than just feelings and finances?
It's probably all of these things. All I know is that selling Aaron's condo and buying this house has been going on for months, during the same period in time during which I've started a new job, planned and threw a wedding weekend extravaganza, and moved --- all the while growing a baby. No sooner do we survive the actual physical move than we're dealing with this.
And I wonder why I haven't blogged in weeks.
--- I'm going to be gentle, since this is a public forum and stranger things have been known to happen. However, there ended up being a three-week-long battle over an escrow. The situation was resolved today, totally in our favor, but I loathe the people who thought they could take advantage of us and I'm working on forgiving them.
--- Along those lines, I'm extending my ill will toward subcontractors who try to take advantage of homeowners. I had a very ubiquitous local plumbing outfit in to my home to find out why the central Air Conditioning unit in the basement was leaking. I was told by one person that we could service the unit, but that would cost a couple grand, and the coil was filthy, and the previous owners hadn't serviced it in forever. So it was better to just replace the whole thing. For between 7k and 10k. Yeah, go fuck yourself.
Another guy from the same outfit opined that it might not be the AC causing the leak, but a cracked floor drain. But I'd need a videocamera and a jackhammer to record where the water was seeping in from, and to determine exactly where the crack was coming from. Do I look stupid, or do they do this to everyone? I almost threw him bodily out of my house.
Then my wonderful cousin Angelo came over and determined that it was a broken condensate pump (an $80 part) and it's an easy fix. So I called Superior Comfort from Bristol, Rhode Island. I will name Superior Comfort here because I would recommend them to anyone. Two hours and $257 later, I got a new condensate pump, a freshly scrubbed coil, and a little silicone to repair a small crack in a pipe. Problem SOLVED. No more water leaking all over the floor.
--- The upshot of these two stories is that people are always trying to screw other people. So you get defensive and try to screw before you get screwed. Or at least just try to not get screwed. But seriously, it's hateful. Is it because so much money is involved in buying and selling houses that it brings out the worst in people? Is it because our homes are also invested with emotion for us? Or is the emotional connection tied up with the expense that turns it, synergistically, into something larger than just feelings and finances?
It's probably all of these things. All I know is that selling Aaron's condo and buying this house has been going on for months, during the same period in time during which I've started a new job, planned and threw a wedding weekend extravaganza, and moved --- all the while growing a baby. No sooner do we survive the actual physical move than we're dealing with this.
And I wonder why I haven't blogged in weeks.
Nearly a Month?
Last time I blogged, last time I even turned my computer on, was more than three weeks ago. It was before we moved into the new house, where it feels like we've been forever somehow. A lot goes on with a move, obviously, and all of the events of June really wore me out. The wedding was only a month and a half ago! And now that we're moved in, there is so much to do with unpacking and settling in. Oh, and I'm 25 weeks pregnant, meaning the clock is ticking. Now it's time to sort out the baby's room and all the stuff I need to get for her. I haven't a clue as to what to get, and the time and energy to do the research has been in short supply.
So that's where I've been. I hurt my back, probably due to a combination of moving and the baby growing, so I was on bed rest all of last week working from home on my laptop. It's been good to be back in the office this week, but I'm worn out as the work week is drawing to a close.
The big lesson from the past few weeks is the one I had to learn at the start of this pregnancy: my body isn't mine alone right now, and it's easily worn out. My dynamo mind hasn't stopped trying to drive me, but it's necessary to pace myself. My parents and my husband have been more than picking up the slack and helping me do what I can't do myself right now, and for that I'm grateful.
Otherwise, work is crazy and the house has endless possibilities. I've taken some pictures, but I'm not sure where the CF card reader is right now. Aaron and I tidied up the basement and put things on shelves along the walls, so there is a work space starting to emerge. Aaron's studio out in the three season room (we call it the sun porch for some reason) is turning into quite the atelier for him too.
It's good to be home.
So that's where I've been. I hurt my back, probably due to a combination of moving and the baby growing, so I was on bed rest all of last week working from home on my laptop. It's been good to be back in the office this week, but I'm worn out as the work week is drawing to a close.
The big lesson from the past few weeks is the one I had to learn at the start of this pregnancy: my body isn't mine alone right now, and it's easily worn out. My dynamo mind hasn't stopped trying to drive me, but it's necessary to pace myself. My parents and my husband have been more than picking up the slack and helping me do what I can't do myself right now, and for that I'm grateful.
Otherwise, work is crazy and the house has endless possibilities. I've taken some pictures, but I'm not sure where the CF card reader is right now. Aaron and I tidied up the basement and put things on shelves along the walls, so there is a work space starting to emerge. Aaron's studio out in the three season room (we call it the sun porch for some reason) is turning into quite the atelier for him too.
It's good to be home.
6.24.2008
The Illinois Community College Movement
I've long said that Illinois had a strong community college emphasis, and now it appears, according to the Chronicle of Higher Education, that I was right. Turns out that in a poll of Illinois residents, they had more favorable opinions of the local community colleges than of the state universities.
The results stand to reason. Community colleges are incredibly affordable (under $100 a credit if you live in the local district) and they keep families together. The north and northwest suburbs of Chicago are among some of the most diverse places in the country, and many of my students were first-generation or even young immigrants from places in the world that have stronger collective family structures than our individualistic western ones. Community colleges are an economical way for students to earn a degree while staying close to home.
I knew it would be another story when I moved back to Rhode Island, which is culturally and educationally a much different place. But I do miss knowing that I had so many teaching opportunities at really good colleges. Even though I was only an adjunct, I had more work oppportunities than I had time to accept. It will be interesting to follow how this movement spreads, if at all, to other parts of the country in the coming years.
The results stand to reason. Community colleges are incredibly affordable (under $100 a credit if you live in the local district) and they keep families together. The north and northwest suburbs of Chicago are among some of the most diverse places in the country, and many of my students were first-generation or even young immigrants from places in the world that have stronger collective family structures than our individualistic western ones. Community colleges are an economical way for students to earn a degree while staying close to home.
I knew it would be another story when I moved back to Rhode Island, which is culturally and educationally a much different place. But I do miss knowing that I had so many teaching opportunities at really good colleges. Even though I was only an adjunct, I had more work oppportunities than I had time to accept. It will be interesting to follow how this movement spreads, if at all, to other parts of the country in the coming years.
6.20.2008
I Hate Wii
According to the little box of hate, my fitness age is 70. It's actually gone down from 64 the other day. WTF?!?!
Thank you, Wii. I'm so old, fitness-wise, I might as well be dead.
Of course I don't hate the Wii completely. I only hate it for telling me what I know is true: I'm in terrible shape. I'm only 30 years old, but my fitness age is DOUBLE that. Now, in fairness, I'm not much of a video gamer, and I'm still trying to figure out the damned controls, so I'm hoping that things will improve. Part of me is torn between wanting to play the damned thing until I pass out, while the other part wants to throw the damned remote through the TV screen.
Aaron tried to make me feel better by reminding me that I'm still learning the controls, and that I am five and a half months pregnant and it's likely only going to get worse. That didn't really help. Needless to say, I'm not taking my new limitations very well. But then again, I don't have much of a choice, and I need to start admitting it.
And I also know that I need to just keep it up. I will get better. That was the whole point of getting the Wii in the first place. So I'll stick with it. I need to get in better shape, especially because I'm pregnant, and not use the pregnancy as an excuse for my geriatric fitness level.
Thank you, Wii. I'm so old, fitness-wise, I might as well be dead.
Of course I don't hate the Wii completely. I only hate it for telling me what I know is true: I'm in terrible shape. I'm only 30 years old, but my fitness age is DOUBLE that. Now, in fairness, I'm not much of a video gamer, and I'm still trying to figure out the damned controls, so I'm hoping that things will improve. Part of me is torn between wanting to play the damned thing until I pass out, while the other part wants to throw the damned remote through the TV screen.
Aaron tried to make me feel better by reminding me that I'm still learning the controls, and that I am five and a half months pregnant and it's likely only going to get worse. That didn't really help. Needless to say, I'm not taking my new limitations very well. But then again, I don't have much of a choice, and I need to start admitting it.
And I also know that I need to just keep it up. I will get better. That was the whole point of getting the Wii in the first place. So I'll stick with it. I need to get in better shape, especially because I'm pregnant, and not use the pregnancy as an excuse for my geriatric fitness level.
6.19.2008
Writing Group
Beth has organized a small writers' group, just 4 members, who met for the first time tonight. Our group leader is a writer and teacher, and the session was a terrific creative shot in the arm. We aren't going to meet again until mid-July, as our leader is going to be out of town until then, but there's lots to do in the meantime. I loved being back in that type of workshop again, especially one with such great energy and expertise. I have high expectations for my creative output as a result.
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