chaque jour

2007-08-19T07:28:00.000-07:00

How I spent my summer vacation, Part II:
(the Interlude)

Work like mad to make up for lost time (my 6.2 hours of vacation aren't doing me any good yet, but I probably couldn't keep taking time off like this is I was a full time employee).

Take suitcase to work and leave immediately to make it to that wedding. Leave at 3am to catch a flight home so I can go to work on the way. Eat as much as possible while in NC and feel queasy the whole time. Go straight to work. Swear I'll never do that again.

Work like mad to make up for lost time (boy, that sounds familiar). Take suitcase to work so I can leave immediately to visit my folks. Pick up dogs and daughter (and baggage), swing by summer bbq for visiting relatives on the way out of town. Arrive in Oregon later than I hoped, but still before my sister's delayed flight.

Pack 18 months worth of visiting into 66 hours:

Leave the dogs behind.

Work like mad to squeeze hours into this pay period since I'll be taking off the following week. Swear I'll never do that again.

2007-08-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

How I spent my summer vacation, Part I:
(it sure wasn't sleeping...)

Here it is, my home away from home for the summer:

You'll note that this little stove is tipping. This is very exciting. When sailing, the boat tips and when one changes direction, the boat tips the other way. This makes cooking a bit challenging with a fixed stove, and scary when cooking in large, heavy, full-with-simmering-chili pots. But the new stove is gimballed, so it stays horizontal regardless of which way or how much the boat heals. Oh happy day! So, I cooked. Spaghetti, dumpling soup, fish and potatoes, pancakes and sausage, cobblers, brownies, and lots of hot coffee, tea, and chocolate.

The weather was suprisingly cool, although it gave us some lovely days, like this one at Sidney Spit in British Columbia:

2007-06-24T20:20:00.001-07:00

I recently made the prettiest birthday cake ever:

2007-06-23T16:55:00.000-07:00

Swiftsure II
I realize that writing this post three weeks after the fact does not give it the breathless immediacy it deserves, but the penalty for taking four days off was three solid weeks of work. Luckily, I'm off one job for the summer.
So, Swiftsure is a yacht race in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, leaving from Victoria, BC. We sailed overnight to get there, rested a day, raced (poorly) a day, and returned home over two days.

Take a look at this picture:

I did not take this picture, nor is it of the boat on which I was, but it is an excellent illustration of what sailing hard looks like. See how far over it is tipped? Intellectually, we all know that this will make daily duties (like making sandwiches or using the head) much more difficult. It is hard to explain, however, how nearly impossible these duties become, because there are no flat surfaces on which to set anything. Or to walk on. Learning experience indeed.
That said, this was the most intense, real-life, no-shit sailing I have ever done. I have now buried the rail on the boat and recovered. And while it was scary at the time, She and I agree that we can't wait to be able to do it again.

2007-05-30T19:56:00.000-07:00

Swiftsure post I

I'll give a real rundown later, but here is a snapshot of my holiday weekend...

Eleven people bunking in a space approx. 20X7. On the last night, She pokes her head out of her sleeping bag while I brush my teeth around someone else's elbow:

A quelle heure est-ce que nous rev...rev..

Nous allons reveiller? I ask.
No, its in the future. Reveilleions?
No, that's what the allons is for. We're going to get up.
Mom, reveiller is reflexive.
Ok, then nous allons se reveiller?
Whatever. Go to bed!

2007-05-03T13:08:00.000-07:00

Plans

I am quite looking forward to the Opening Day Parade this year, my first on a boat. In fact, we'll all be on boats as both She and rtg have crew assignments, as well. But mostly, I am looking forward to seeing this:

With less fanfare, a single boat will slip out near the head of the fleet, powered by a single rower. His craft will be one long wisp, 26 feet of nearly pure waterline displacing less than 36 pounds.

You can read the rest of the story here: Wooden-boat heritage gets a boost with revival of historic Pocock shell

2007-05-01T17:16:00.000-07:00

Closer
We have doors, drawers, dishwasher, sink and faucet. All we need is the counter, water reconnected, and we're back in business.
Check this out...

That boy of mine has got some skills!

2007-04-24T17:22:00.000-07:00

In other news
We just wrapped up the first ever Celebrate Seattle dance festival here, which was an exciting opportunity to see some companies and choreographers that are otherwise left to others. Most of the festival was quite good, if a bit difficult for an audience used to tutus and tiaras. And even I have to admit, Merce Cunningham may be one of the most influential choreographers of the 20th century, but I just don't like the work. I try, but it reminds me of watching dancing brussels sprouts. However, there was excellent fun in having dancers from my mom's company in Oregon performing up here. Hooray for the mother/daughter wardrobe team.

Speaking of Brussels Sprouts (which I have eaten and eaten, but never liked), it is planting time here in the beautiful PNW. I have filled our yard waste bin (4x2x2) six times in as many weeks. It is amazing that two years fallow can erase five years of cultivating. This year I am getting on top of it early, before I get overwhelmed. I usually only grow salads, and this year there are lettuces, carrots, radishes, beets and herbs like normal. I am adding green beans and tomatoes (3 kinds), but also collards and dry beans for minestrone in the fall. There are finally enough strawberry plants to make something from (although who am I kidding, those get pinched while walking past strawberry plants on the way to the bus). If the squashes (zucchini, pattypan and pumpkin) come in, we'll eat very well this year. But my pride and joy are the three (count them!) tiny figs on my fig tree this spring.
I can't wait.

2007-04-21T15:33:00.000-07:00

Beauties
Here's one

and here's the other

2007-04-13T18:25:00.000-07:00

Progress, albeit slow
I have to move out of the kitchen this evening. Time for the real demolition to begin. rtg tore out the upper cabinets two weeks ago and built and installed the new ones. So far, we have been dancing around each other as I cook and he builds, with only a few conflicts (in the future, all clean dishes should be put away before we start sanding: ick).
Here is a picture for layout:
And one for style:

So far, my job has been to pick stuff out, which compared to rtg's fine craft, seems a little lowly. Having a lot of style really pales in comparison to having some real skill.
Choosing materials and finishes is more complicated than I expected, however, mostly because there are more options than I realized, although most of them are crummy. After many dispiriting trips to the Enormous Hardware Store (both the orange and the blue one) and the Holy Crap Expensive kitchen boutiques, I found a (big!) apron front fireclay sink that we both like and this lovely faucet at a reasonable price. rtg found the only under the counter microwave available these days (what do people in apartments do?) and we decided on a dishwasher which we will not use. Finally, we came to a detente on the counters. Pretty, no? And paint, which I'll have to show you in a month when it is in place.

With all these details of construction rolling into our house, I knew that I'd have to move down to the auxiliary kitchen (which I am starting to call the scullery) sooner or later. rtg has to cut out the sink and rewire the north wall before he can install the cabinetry. So I have been cooking up a storm to try and get it out of my system. This week I bought a bottle of port for the first time and made pate. And it is pretty tasty. Unfortunately, rtg doesn't like liver and is a little squicked by the whole process. And She is in India for spring break. So there is no one but me here to share with; I'll have to eat it all by myself.
Pity.

2007-04-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

Hear that?
That low, rumbling buzz that can only be the sound of spring? We've heard it around our neighborhood for weeks. Not bees, not lawnmowers. That is the sound of a router. Specifically, a router given for Christmas in 1996 or 1997, never out of it's box until now.
After the winning success of the new cabinet in our kitchen, rtg has decided what-the-hell-nine-years-is-long-enough, and has started remodeling our kitchen. I am beside myself with glee. Counters raised to modern heights (the old ones were installed in the 1930s and are lower than normal; so low that I can't touch the bottom of the sink when standing upright to wash dishes)! Cabinets with doors that shut! Paint that goes all the way around (and not red, sorry Jane)!
We plan on celebrating the centenary of our house this summer and I was wondering what we would have to show for it (the poor place hasn't been painted in 20 years). While the work we have done previously has stabilized this house for the next 100, it isn't much to look at (now THAT's some ductwork! And is that a new sewer line? Look's good!). Building this kitchen ourselves, in the style of what we are removing, is a great step towards the greater stewardship of this house.
And yes, I'll post pictures.

2007-03-19T17:59:00.000-07:00

Yet another reason why rtg is the greatest

It is hard to believe it has been more than a whole year since he was hiring a diver to fetch his wedding ring out of the briny deep, but check out what rtg built for us this weekend:

2007-01-11T07:21:00.000-08:00

Can you bear another photo?
A little dark, but....

Last night's snow before dawn.

2007-01-10T19:30:00.000-08:00

Some years it doesn't snow at all

But not this year.

2007-01-08T22:59:00.000-08:00

Trying to get this written for days...
The new year has been wreaking havoc with our internet and wireless connections. Grrr. I thought these were labor saving devices.

Anyway, a clarifying photo was requested, but first, an explanation:
Usually, rtg and I work hard over the holiday, but still see each other and there is a good deal of mystery afoot at our house as each family member ferrets away their gifts and projects for the month of December. We usually start in late October when life is slow since December is so busy. This year, there was no slow October. We went away, but it was busy before we left and slammed as soon as we returned. Wacky. This is all I really wanted to do:
But wacky it remained. Until New Years Eve. Last year, as a graduation gift from my neighbors, I received several nice bottles of wine and champagne (I mean *sparkling wine*) from a good local winery. I saved the last bottle of champagne sort of until New Years, but also until I could find flutes that I couldn't wedge on my nose. Victory, flutes and holiday arrived the same day, so all reviewing and planning was held until I could finish my last bottle:
Unfortunately, I poured this glass at nine, fell asleep shortly there after, and took this photo the next morning. Mmmmm, flat champagne for breakfast. At least my nose didn't get stuck.

2006-12-31T12:31:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve

Day two of my three days off and I am still in my jammies. I have work to do, but until I am wearing pants, there is no rush. The last two weeks have been a doozy: parenting issues, double shifts, gift availability, surprise family visits, and scouts. I think I'll finish my graduation champagne before I try to un-knot all of it.

2006-12-14T07:40:00.000-08:00

How the Roman Empire fell

--Is that where you are putting your Advent calendar?
==Yeah, why?
--Covering my Carl Larsson tray? There was no other place?
==I'm staging a coup d'etat. That nail is mine now.

2006-11-20T19:30:00.000-08:00

About that trip (finally)

Our trip to the Virgin Islands was initiated by my friend who passed away in December. She spent her honeymoon there and promised my daughter that they would snorkel in St. John before graduation. As she was dying, she decided she wanted her ashes spread in the sea off St. John and that my daughter should be there for it. So what else could we do?
I was apprehensive from the beginning. Rtg doesn't travel well and this trip was so emotionally charged that I wasn't sure that I had the reserves to keep us all even keeled. Luckily, my friend's husband made nearly all the arrangements. We just had to show up.
Three fourths of St. John is national park, which means it is largely unbuilt and under-populated, which is nice. We could go to beaches and snorkel and not see many other people, which was nice. We rented a house for all of us so we cooked at home and watched movies and did homework, but mostly we sat on the patio and watched the boats go by. It was very restful. My friend is still greiving for his wife and as a result, the conversation flowed more freely into issues of values and creed and legacy than it usually does.

Here are some photos:
This is the view off the patio

And of a beach

And of a still soggy family

There were many things historic, geologic, and meteorologic that surprised me, but the greatest thing was my willingness, after having discussed the real meaning-of-life stuff, to start disassociating from my stuff. There is a large live-aboard community on the east end of the island who make it sound so easy.

2006-11-16T19:18:00.000-08:00

Back on our heads

We are back to our work-a-day groove after a rest in the Virgin Islands. I had never been to the tropics before and was aprehensive about what I might find, but now I know:
I like it. More about that trip next time.

The YA novel "Dicey's Song" mentions a grave stone inscribed, "Home is the hunter home from the hill and the sailor home from the sea." Or something like that, which has always stuck in my mind. We returned from our trip to the "worst storm of the year" according to the TV & news. There has been a good bit of rain, but then it is NOVEMBER. Should we be surprised?
Anyway, back from vacation and back to work. The holidays are upon us, which means rtg and I are gearing up for our annual bout of holiday industry. We are the people who work during others' recreation.
I started sailing lessons two weeks ago. So far they have been very wet and very cold (November, right?), but also very exciting and anxiety inducing. This last lesson was the first time I had the greater sense that I could do this by myself. With a lot more practice, of course, but soon. Hopefully there will be more to say about this soon, too.

2006-11-04T07:53:00.000-08:00

Abandoned blog recovered (for now)

Working and traveling, exploring the joys of geometry, cooking and teaching, learning a little about the world (and more than I wanted to about myself).
Here's a traveling photo from St. John:

2006-09-02T09:43:00.000-07:00

The end of the summer

"The summer ends and we wonder where we are
And there you go my friends with your boxes in your car."

I have always liked those lines, from a song by Dar Williams. I have lived near a university since I was 18 and recognize the ritual shifting of the roomates as a seasonal change. They are in the midst of it on our street, so many scrambling to be out by the first and into their new space later the same day. Several people I know are leaving their old situations for new ones and this adds to the sense of progress and expectancy a sense of rootlessness and uncertainty.
I have been viewing the annual angst over "the stuff" with a bit of a twinge this year. Three years ago, I did the same thing, trying to dissociate my identity from my stuff (do you bring the books you haven't read, or the ones you read and loved?). I decided the art would come along before the furniture, that there was no reason to study if I couldn't do it at the beautiful desk rtg made for me, under my great-grandmother's lamp; that She could bring only one box of books (but stuff as many as possible into her suitcase). We fit everything we needed into six feet of truck space; a coup when you consider the quantity of stuff still in our basement waiting to be given away.
All this was on my mind last week when our property tax assessment arrived. The same day, a group of Lord Nelson Victory Tugs arrived in Seattle, including this one. Rtg spent some quality time trying to figure how many years of moorage our equity would buy. Amortization was discussed**.
We're on a 12 year track to giving up everything we own, but what will we take with us? Where will I put art on a boat?

**a side note added later: I countered with the first boat on this page.

2006-08-12T10:18:00.000-07:00

Interns rule!
On the phone today, trying to buy tickets to a show, I was stuck in an endless loop of time-killing advertisements for other events from this ticketing agency. As I sit on hold, I notice in the voice-over background entreating me to attend the Oregon State Fair, the unmistakeable opening riff to the Decemberists’ song “Los Angeles, I’m yours.” Interesting choice, but nice; I always assume it was the intern's job to find the background music, and I do enjoy hearing something clever. Until the voice-over intrudes again saying “This year featuring TED NUGENT!”
I wonder what they would have to say about each other…

2006-08-07T22:42:00.000-07:00

When I'm in charge...

Dear Colleague,
You're swell. Really, our meetings at the copier bring a sunbeam into my lonely days. Which is why I have to tell you to knock it off. While I recognize the whimsy in having a distinctive ringtone and the convenience of coding them according to whomever is calling, having a phone that plays anything with a cha-cha beat, especially if you are going to leave your phone at your desk, ringer turned on, while you spend the day in meetings (I'd hate to have them interrupted...) is bad form. Gauche, gauche, gauche.
And while the library shelving looks solid, much like our cubicle walls, it is not actually soundproof, so I get to listen to your phone over and over again. So, please either carry your phone, turn off the ringer, or tell your spouse to figure it out on her own. Because the next time I spend a day listening to Tico Tico each hour, I will break that fucking thing.
Thanks,
CSG

2006-08-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

More photos

From the trip may be found here. Click on "Long Cruise 2006."

2006-07-31T08:13:00.000-07:00

The rest of the love story

There could be all kinds of stories behind the photo from my last post. I freely admit having a crazy love affair with my house, Seattle, the Pacific Northwest, and the West in general, but this is different.
Two weeks ago, I was pressed into not-quite-emergency service as a chaperone to Her SeaScout crew for their Long Cruise. Long Cruise is a two week sail that has been a tradition for this group since the beginning and is a test of skill, self-reliance, patience and tolerance. I had never been on a sailboat before, never been out on a boat overnight before, have a goosey digestive system, and only knew one crew member--the one most likely to throw me overboard if she had the chance and a discussion of hair dye came up again.
Well, it was a raging success from my point of view. Sailing reminds me a bit of backpacking on water and the wooden boat we were on speaks to my love of lost skill and antiquated technology. I was pleased to recognize in the captain the same twitchiness for getting away from land that I get for getting out of town. We went places I had never seen before and would never have the chance via car or foot. The kids were amazing. There were moments of 14-year-old-wtf when I wanted to smack them, but when they were focused and working together, they had a precision and intiution that was impressive in such a young crowd. If this is our future, we might just be ok.
One thing that became painfully obvious is that, while the concepts of sailing are not difficult, the details provide a lifetime of study. To that end, I have signed up for a round of classes beginning (sigh...) in November. In the mean time, cue Josephine Baker:
J'ai deux amours...